One Sunday at a Time

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One Sunday at a Time Page 3

by E. N. Joy


  Deborah was quiet for a moment and thought before she spoke. “When we first started this session, I asked you a question, and then you asked me one in return.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dr. Vanderdale said, recalling the beginning of the session.

  “Well, to answer your question, yes. Yes, I do think I’m crazy.” With that, Deborah roughly wiped away the tears spilling from her eyes. She then stood up. “And I’m crazy for being here.” Who was Deborah kidding? She’d seen a Christian therapist and a Christian counselor who had totally different views on her healing. Well, if everyone served the same God, why was He telling them different things about the same person? And what could God tell this new therapist that would be any different? Like Dr. Vanderdale had said, God was omnipresent, and knowing He was the greatest healer of all, Deborah decided she wouldn’t waste another minute of her time or Dr. Vanderdale’s and would go home and let God meet her right where she was.

  “Wha…what do you mean, you are crazy for being here?” Dr. Vanderdale stood, hiding the terror in his eyes at the possibility of Deborah walking out his office door.

  “Who are we kidding? I’m sure you’re an excellent doctor, one of the best, if not the best, from what I’ve been told. That’s one reason why I chose to come to you. But if God can’t fix me, what makes you think you can?” Deborah grabbed her purse from the chair next to her. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. Just bill me for whatever the insurance company doesn’t cover.” And on that note, she exited the office.

  “Mrs. Chase! Deborah, wait!” Dr. Vanderdale called out. It was too late, though. The door slammed in his face. He slowly sat back down at his desk as he sighed. He stared down at the notes he’d written down concerning Deborah during her brief time in his office. Like he’d told Deborah before, there was so much he could tell about her even without her speaking about it. And from what he could tell, she was in trouble, and she needed help before it was too late . . . and before somebody got hurt. More than likely, it would be her.

  Chapter 2

  “Baby, great. You’re home,” Lynox said as he planted a kiss onto his wife’s lips as soon as she walked in the door. “Here.” He handed her their three-month-old baby boy. He then raced over toward the stairs and grabbed his roller case that he transported his books in.

  “Is there a fire or something?” Deborah asked, kissing her son on the forehead and then rocking him. “Where’s Tyson?” Deborah looked around for her school-aged son, who was in kindergarten.

  “Next door, with the Perkins,” Lynox said as he whizzed back to the front door, where Deborah stood with the baby in her arms. “Charles bought CJ a new game or something. Benji came over to see if Tyson wanted to break it in with him. I let him go over about a half hour ago. You might want to check on him in a little bit. You know Tyson can be a handful. We don’t want to ruin a good relationship with our neighbors. You know Charles makes the best homemade sangria ever.” He winked at Deborah.

  Deborah was glad to see that Lynox had loosened up as far as allowing Tyson to go play with his best friend, CJ. CJ was a year older than Tyson. He was in first grade. But Tyson was very mature for his age. He’d been speaking in full sentences and holding complete conversations for quite some time now. Because he was tall for his age, people thought he was older than what he really was, so they treated him as such, and he adapted. Folks were surprised that a kindergartner could communicate better than some first and second graders. Because of how advanced Tyson was, he went to kindergarten the first half of the day and to first grade the second half.

  CJ was a smart kid too. He was also nice, quiet, and calm, the polar opposite of Tyson, who was always overly excited about everything and bouncing off the walls. Tyson did, however, respect his parents as well as other adults. It was CJ’s parents, Charles and Benji—his two dads—that Lynox had been leery about. Charles was CJ’s biological father, having divorced his wife, CJ’s mother, three years ago. He now lived with his life partner, Benji.

  It had been a year ago when Deborah and Lynox’s new neighbors had come over and introduced themselves. It had taken Lynox and Deborah a minute to catch on to the fact that the two gentlemen with the little guy in tow were a couple. They’d looked like two regular, manly white dudes. Neither of them had been feminine in any apparent way. Lynox or Deborah would have never known the real deal had CJ not referred to both of them as Dad. That was when Lynox and Deborah had shot each other peculiar looks. Those looks hadn’t gone unnoticed by their neighbors. Embarrassed that she and Lynox were outed by their obvious reaction, Deborah had had to apologize to the couple immediately.

  “I’m so sorry,” Deborah had said, truly apologetic.

  “It’s okay,” Charles had said. “We get that look all the time.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t,” Deborah said. “Especially not from someone like myself, who is a Christian.”

  This time it was Charles and Benji who shot one another a look.

  Deborah chuckled while nodding. “Oh, I get it. You’ve had your share of the abomination, hell, and damnation sermons when it comes to your lifestyle, huh?”

  “And how.” Benji laughed.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t have a heaven or a hell to put you in,” Deborah said. She looked at her husband. “Right, Lynox?”

  Lynox hadn’t yet wiped off the look on his face from when he realized his new neighbors were a gay couple. His mind had been stuck on the finding that both men were the boy’s dads. One could have been the biological father and the other the stepfather, but that wasn’t the case. “Huh? What? Oh, yeah, right,” he said, not really sure what he was agreeing to.

  “In addition to that,” Deborah continued, “it’s not about what I think of your lifestyle. It’s about what God says. What you do is between you and Him. But I must warn you.” Deborah pointed a finger at the men. “Whenever the opportunity to minister to you arises, I will take it.” She laughed, and her neighbors joined her. “But not just because you’re . . . you know.” She looked down at CJ and then back at the men. She didn’t finish the thought, because she wasn’t sure what words they used to describe their relationship around their son. “I don’t discriminate in my ministering of God’s word. Ask the young girl down the street who recently moved in with her boyfriend.” Deborah used her fingers to make quotation marks when she said the word boyfriend. “I don’t do it to judge, because I once lived in sin as well. Just fornicating, even with another woman’s hus—”

  “Uh, honey,” Lynox interrupted and shook his head. He knew Deborah was about to give her testimony of how she was the last person who could pick up a stone and throw it at anybody. She’d fornicated. She’d participated in an adulterous relationship. She’d told lies. She’d had an abortion. She was as big a sinner as the next. She’d say the only thing that made her different was that she wasn’t living in sin anymore. But Lynox felt that was a bit much to share with people they’d known only a minute . . . literally. “TMI,” Lynox told Deborah. “Besides . . .” He nodded at CJ, who was standing in between his two fathers, looking as confused as all get-out.

  “Oh, oh. I’m so sorry.” Deborah put her hand over her mouth. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea about me.” She pointed to Lynox. “About us. I really do love everybody. I don’t love what everybody does, but then again, God doesn’t love everything I do, yet He still loves me. It’s my job as a Christian to love everyone with the love of Christ.” Deborah would have continued on with her religious mumbo jumbo if Lynox hadn’t pulled her in for a hug. She was rambling, trying too hard to prove to her neighbors that she wasn’t one to judge, but at the same time letting them know she believed God’s Word concerning every situation, including homosexuality.

  “We are so glad you stopped over to introduce yourselves.” Lynox extended his hand for a handshake.

  Benji looked down at Lynox’s hand. He then held out a limp hand for Lynox to shake, while putting his other hand on his hip. The look on Lynox’s face was a true Kodak
moment. He wasn’t sure if he should shake Benji’s hand or tell Deborah to whip out her file and polish and give this dude a manicure.

  After basking in the look of horror on Lynox’s face for only so much longer, Benji burst out laughing, and Charles joined him. “Gotcha.” Benji changed his limp hand into the shape of a gun.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Yeah, you got me,” Lynox admitted.

  Benji extended his hand for a real handshake. Lynox and Benji shook hands, then Lynox and Charles.

  “It’s nice meeting you both,” Lynox said.

  “Same here,” Charles said.

  “And you too,” Benji said to Deborah. “I think.” He had a puzzled look on his face.

  Once again they all laughed.

  Later on that night Lynox and Deborah had engaged in pillow talk. Lynox had informed her that he didn’t have anything against their new neighbors, but that he wasn’t sure he could take them up on the offer they’d made prior to departing, which was that Tyson could come over anytime he wanted to play with CJ and have sleepovers.

  “And why not?” Deborah had asked. “CJ seems nice, and so does his par . . . so do Charles and Benji.” Deborah would try her best to show the love of Christ to everyone she met, but it was hard for her to come to terms with CJ having two men as his custodial parents.

  “I’m sure CJ is a great kid. Charles and Benji were some cool cats. Nice sense of humor.” Lynox paused, looking straight ahead.

  “But . . .” Deborah was going to force him to give his reasoning.

  “But they’re gay. I don’t want my son to see that lifestyle and think it’s okay. Or even worse.” This time a hard swallow came after Lynox’s pause.

  Even though Lynox didn’t say a word, Deborah knew her husband well enough to know what he was thinking. “Shame on you.” Deborah softly slapped Lynox’s hands. “Just because a man is gay doesn’t mean he likes little boys, and you should repent right now for thinking it.”

  “I’d be fearful of someone abusing Tyson no matter if they’re gay or not . . . man or woman.”

  “Yeah, being fearful and being outright suspicious are two different things.”

  “And how do you know?”

  Deborah shifted her body to face her husband. “Do you think our neighbors are the first gay people I’ve ever met? Please! Besides, I am the agent of the bestselling memoir Woke Up Like This. It chronicles the life of a man who woke up one day and decided that was the day he would admit to the world that he was gay. The admission included his wife and kids.”

  “So he woke up like that, huh?” Lynox shrugged. “I guess he throws the theory out the window of being born gay. Heck, who knew you could just wake up gay one day?” Lynox threw his hands in the air.

  Deborah chuckled. “Look, knucklehead, I’m not one of those people who you’ll ever find debating about whether a person can be born gay. All I know is that we can all be born again. Now, God bless you and good night.”

  That had been the end of the conversation and any misconceptions Lynox had about his neighbors. Deborah was right; Charles and Benji were living in sin just as much as the girl down the street who was fornicating with her boyfriend. Heck, just as much as he was whenever he told a little white lie here and there. The Bible didn’t excuse little white lies versus big ones. Sin was sin, as Deborah liked to say. They were all sinners and needed Jesus.

  But right now, as Lynox raced out the door, he needed Jesus to restore time. He was running late, thanks to Deborah not coming home until right before he needed to walk out the door. He wasn’t used to trying to get himself ready and taking care of the kids at the same time. He had always had Deborah there to do the latter.

  As the early November chill smacked him across the face, Lynox realized that he had forgotten something. “Shoot. My jacket.”

  “Where are you going, anyway?” Deborah asked him as she watched him race back inside, go to the closet, and pull out a jacket.

  Slipping into his black leather jacket, Lynox replied, “You know I have that book club meeting over at the Book Suite in Columbus.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Deborah thumped herself upside the head, a minor punishment for her forgetfulness. This only justified her getting up and leaving right in the middle of her session with Dr. Vanderdale. Had she not, Lynox would have been a no-show at his meeting.

  On her drive home from Dr. Vanderdale’s office, Deborah had had the notion to turn her car around several times and go back, but she hadn’t. Her getting home right in the nick of time for Lynox to leave was confirmation that she’d made the right decision.

  “Where were you?” Lynox looked down as he zipped his jacket.

  “I uh, just, uh, lost track of time. I’m so sorry,” Deborah answered, without actually answering.

  “It’s fine.” He planted another kiss on his wife’s lips. “Don’t make me dinner. I’m sure there will be plenty for me to gnaw on at the meeting. These book clubs be going all out for your boy.” Lynox proudly popped his collar.

  “Oh, my humble husband.” Deborah shook her head. “Get on out of here.” She play spanked him on the behind.

  Lynox kissed her on the lips yet again. He hadn’t even been married to Deborah for two years. This was still the honeymoon stage, as far as he was concerned. Next, he kissed his baby boy on the forehead. He was about to exit, but then he turned back one last time. “And don’t forget, this weekend Reo Laroque and his wife, Klarke, invited us over to their place. They’re celebrating Reo’s fifteenth year as an author and his fifteenth book release.”

  Reo Laroque, like Lynox, was a very well-known New York Times bestselling author of sensual tales. He was actually one of the reasons Lynox had started to write. They both wrote for the same publisher, but for different imprints, so they were still pretty much label mates. Lynox had felt so honored the first time he got to actually meet Reo at BookExpo America in New York, at a reception hosted by their publishing house. Since then, Reo had become like a mentor to Lynox. At the time they first met, even though Columbus, Ohio, was Reo’s hometown, which was only a hop, skip, and a jump from Lynox in Malvonia, Reo had been living on the West Coast. They would communicate through e-mail and social media and would even hop on the phone to chat every now and then. But Reo had moved back to his hometown, so recently the two had been able to connect in person a couple of times. A genuine friendship was starting to develop between them.

  “I won’t forget about Reo’s celebration,” Deborah assured him.

  “Like you didn’t forget my meeting today?” Lynox said sarcastically.

  “Man, get on out of here.” Deborah shooed him away with her foot as she laughed. He raced out, and she closed the door behind him, then looked down at her baby boy. “Mommy forgot about this weekend with the Laroques. But shhh.” She put her index finger up to her lips. “Don’t tell Daddy.”

  The baby cooed. This made Deborah smile. But as she thought about all the work, meetings, and duties that were ahead of her, she couldn’t help but wonder how long that smile would last.

  Chapter 3

  “I need you to stop and pick up my dry cleaning if you can,” Lynox called out from the walk-in closet that was off of his and Deborah’s private bathroom.

  Deborah stood at the sink, rubbing Noxzema on her face. Today was the first day in a while that she didn’t have a single errand to run. Lynox had a workshop to teach on The Ohio State University campus that would take up his entire day, and Tyson was off to school. When Tatum was awake, he required tending to, but he slept the majority of the time still. So Deborah had her day planned out. In addition to giving Tatum her undivided attention when he needed it, she was going to do some editing and would squeeze in writing her own book, which she’d been working on for years. It was just that she was always so busy putting her two cents into other people’s work that she always had to put her own story on the back burner. She’d promised herself that today would be the day when she at least warmed it up—devoted some
consecrated time to her own creative endeavor. But now here came Lynox, throwing a monkey wrench into her plans.

  “You drive right past the cleaners, don’t you?” Deborah asked.

  “Yeah, but I’m not going to have time to stop, and I need the suit for the Laroques’ event tonight.”

  “Babe,” Deborah said in a forced sugary voice. She was trying to keep her cool. But she was the type of person who had everything planned out down to the minute. Getting off track was not something she could easily deal with. It gave her anxiety to just think about falling behind schedule or failing to do everything on her to-do list that needed to be done. “If you knew you needed the suit tonight, why did you wait until the last minute?”

  “I know, I know. I need to handle my business more.” Lynox was only saying what he knew his wife was about to say. He agreed that he needed to do better when it came to handling his affairs and staying organized. But no matter how hard he tried, he’d never measure up to Deborah, who was the queen of taking care of business and being organized.

  Deborah sighed. She knew it was useless to have this conversation with her husband. Regardless of what was said, she’d end up doing whatever it was he’d asked her to do, anyhow. “Leave the ticket. Even though Mr. Chong knows us by name and face, he does not deviate from his wife’s rule about not giving folks their items unless they produce a ticket,” Deborah said. “Wish more men would listen to their wives.” Deborah cleared her throat and screwed the lid back on the Noxzema.

  “Point taken,” Lynox said, exiting the closet.

  “Good.” Deborah rolled her eyes and began to rinse the white facial cleanser off her face.

  “You’re so cute when you’re mad.” Lynox walked over and hit Deborah on the butt. “Can I get some before I go?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Two seconds ago I would have said yes, but now in the time it takes to give you some, I have to go to the dry cleaners.” Deborah was going to make sure Lynox regretted the day he asked her to run that errand for him, especially as much as that boy loved him some sex with his wife. Sometimes he’d write sex scenes in his books that were so hot and heavy, he’d have to seek out his wife to take care of the desires that had arisen in him.

 

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