by E. N. Joy
Unique noticed the look. “I know. Folks are always shocked when I give ’em Bible.” She turned her attention back to her Pop Tart and looked out the window without any hurt feelings.
Tamarra, on the other hand, was convicted immediately for prejudging the girl. “I…um… I’m sorry, Unique,” she started.
Unique held her hand up. “Unh-unh. No need to apologize. I actually like that folks can’t figure me out. I like being the sheep in wolf’s clothing, if you know what I mean.” She smiled and winked. Tamarra returned the smile and they enjoyed the rest of their ride together. Although they didn’t talk about the church secretary spreading rumors anymore, the thoughts of whether to approach the woman still played around in Tamarra’s mind.
“God is good, all the time, and all the time, God is good,” Tamarra sang as she danced around the house while cleaning. Although she had the CD of the song she was singing, it wasn’t playing on her stereo. She created the music in her head. In life, she’d found herself in situations where she didn’t have music around to move her and ignite a praise, like in the ER this past Sunday. She had to be able to give God some praise about her situation without all the musicians and singers lighting up a fire up under her. At some point, if everything really was going to be all right, she had to call on Jesus Himself to make it so. She had to ignite her own fire, and it needed to rise up out of her belly.
That’s just what had happened on her way to the hospital this past Sunday as Maeyl drove her. The two of them prayed together and called out the name of Jesus the entire drive there. They requested that God prepare the way for Tamarra’s visit to the hospital; that He’d touch the minds and hands of the doctors and nurses so that they would be effective and in their sound minds; that His healing powers would fall down on Tamarra and that she, too, would be and remain in her sound mind. Together, those two did more than ignite a fire; they set a blaze. And that same feeling, a feeling of thanks and gratefulness, was exactly what Tamarra was experiencing now. She was on fire for the Lord.
It started off with just her head being on fire, angry at the church secretary’s actions. This hadn’t been the first time the woman had started a rumor about Tamarra. It was she who had spread the rumor around New Day last year that Tamarra had spent the night at Maeyl’s place. The more Tamarra thought about the church secretary and her ways, the angrier she got. She’d even found herself shouting the words she’d confront the woman with. But then, after not being able to withstand anymore, she felt the Holy Spirit rise up like an internal flame and burn her flesh down to a crisp. The fire still burned, but now it was a burning in her belly, a yearning to give God praise. Soon her shouting toward the church secretary turned into shouts of praises unto God. Just the touch, the presence of a part of God within her, made her so grateful that she couldn’t do anything but shout. She was shouting so loudly that she almost didn’t hear the doorbell ring.
“Oh, Lord have mercy,” Tamarra said to herself, catching her breath. She hoped it wasn’t one of the neighbors at the door with two men in white coats coming after her. With all the hollering and praising she’d been doing, they probably thought she was over there going crazy.
Tamarra straightened herself up as best she could, considering she was wearing a gray fleece jogging suit. She peeked out the window and saw a UPS truck parked directly in front of her house. She gladly opened the door, figuring the serving products she’d ordered online had finally arrived.
As she swung the door open, the UPS truck was pulling off. Parked across the street from the house was a sporty little red Honda that was now in her view. It was a car she’d only seen once, but clearly recognized. Its owner stood on her doorstop, next to the package the UPS man had left.
The girl picked up the package, offering it to Tamarra, who stood behind the closed screen door. The girl had pleading eyes, as if she were begging Tamarra to please accept the package, to please accept the girl herself.
Tamarra started to get all twisted up inside as she stared into the girl’s eyes. They were eyes that tugged at every emotional string within Tamarra’s body. But they were also eyes like her brother’s, reminding her of the monster he was. And with this child being his offspring, no matter how sweet and innocent she might have appeared to be, Tamarra assumed there had to be some kind of monster buried in her as well.
Everything in Tamarra wanted to slam the door closed in the girl’s face and pretend as though she’d never been there. Then there was that side of her that wanted to know why she’d been at her church on Sunday, going into her pastor’s office. It was a vision that landed Tamarra in the emergency room with a near panic attack. She couldn’t deal with this anymore: this girl popping up whenever and wherever. She knew she had to deal with it now, and what better place than the privacy of her own home. Because if she didn’t, she had a feeling her brother’s daughter wasn’t going to give up until she got what she’d come for.
Bravely, Tamarra inhaled then exhaled, opening her front screen. The girl handed Tamarra the package. She accepted it, then nodded, gesturing for the girl to come in. As the girl entered her house, Tamarra knew the remaining skeleton bones of her past were about to exit her closet.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Elton stood and greeted Deborah as she approached the table.
She’d just arrived at Family Café for her meeting with Elton, the man who had been the love of her life. He was the man she thought someday would make her a member of the millionaire wives club, thanks to his lucrative basketball contract overseas in Chile. And thanks to their above-well-to-do status, she’d be able to spend her days doing volunteer ministry work, like visiting homeless shelters and nursing homes. She would visit children in the hospital who were suffering from life-threatening illnesses, in addition to taking care of her own children, dog, and cat. And on some evenings, after a hard day of her husband playing basketball and her doing ministry, the children would be cared for by their live-in nanny, while they’d sit down to dinner at a nice, quiet, fancy restaurant, exchanging details of their day’s activities.
None of that had happened, and now they were sitting in a restaurant, all right, about to share the details of their activities of years past. Years they’d spent without each other. Years that had passed without them exchanging anything but abortion money. They weren’t in some fancy restaurant, either. They were in Family Café, a Malvonia diner where all the locals ate. It was a place where she was sure to see several familiar faces, perhaps one or two New Day members. And that’s just the way she wanted it.
Not sure of how she might respond to being alone with Elton after all of these years, she wanted folks that could be around to hold her accountable for her actions. She didn’t know whether hate from her flesh would rise up against him, or the love of God. Maybe even the lust of her flesh. After all, Elton had been her first love, and she had to admit, he’d been looking pretty dapper at Max and Erma’s, and he’d even topped himself today with his perfectly fitting Nike sweat suit and fresh kicks. Deborah sniffed, because the fragrance of the man lingered just enough to tease her.
Now the moment was here, when she was actually face to face with Elton. She was ready to have a discussion that should have taken place years ago. For Deborah, it felt surreal. For some reason, she’d always felt that she’d never see Elton again for as long as she lived. She hadn’t planned on it, anyway, so she was still not quite sure whether she should have agreed to meet with him. But back at Max and Erma’s, she’d let that puppy dog face of his get to her so bad that she initiated contact with him again, in the form of an e-mail. It was the e-mail she’d sent him after arriving home from the restaurant:
EverythingLiterary: Elton, the way things ended at the restaurant today wasn’t closure at all. It was more like opening up a half-opened can of worms all the way. We need to talk.
Short and sweet and to the point was her e-mail, nothing like the e-mails she’d sent to Lynox. She’d typed t
he one to Elton quickly, and had quickly hit the send button before she could change her mind. It was one of those moments when she wished the e-mail had come back undeliverable. But it hadn’t. It had made it safe and sound into Elton’s e-mail box, and just as quickly as she’d sent it, he’d replied:
StillBallin: My ear is still ringing from the sound of you slamming the phone down when I called you the other day. My head is spinning from how quickly you turned me away at the restaurant. I had figured I’d give you a minute to digest it all, my contacting you out of the blue and my being back home, but I couldn’t help it. Sorry for intruding on you and that suit’s dinner, but I’d really like to see you again. Let me take you to dinner. The place of your choice. You name the date and the time. I hope you’ll accept. I’d really like to see you again…to talk to you…to apologize in person.
Being a Christian woman, Deborah really didn’t have to ponder the e-mail too long. Elton wanted to apologize; so did she. Perhaps this was the one moment when she could fully be set free, leaving no room for Satan to come back and try to attack her mind with this situation. And in the process, she could set Elton free. She could forgive him for the role he played in her late term abortion. So, she replied to his request with:
EverythingLiterary: Okay. Family Café. Tomorrow at 7:00 P.M.
His response had been immediate, like he’d been sitting by the computer holding his breath awaiting her reply.
StillBallin: Great. Thank you so much. See you tomorrow.
Last evening, after reading his last e-mail and logging off her computer, Deborah had tossed and turned all night. She heard the clock ticking, even though her clock was digital. She was anticipating the next day like kids on Christmas Eve waiting to see what Santa had left them. Tomorrow was now here, but Elton was no Santa.
“Please, have a seat.” Elton slightly rose to his feet while extending his hand for her to sit down.
Deborah could see that he still exercised chivalry, just as always. “Thank you,” she replied without looking in his eyes. She was afraid to, for fear she’d be looking into the eyes of the child she’d aborted, who she was sure would have had eyes like his daddy…or her daddy. Although she’d been far enough along for the doctors to determine the sex of the baby, she hadn’t wanted to find out. She’d wanted to be surprised. Well, surprise, surprise.
The two sat across from each other like strangers on a blind date. Elton took the liberty of breaking the ice.
“I ordered your water with lemon wedges,” Elton told her with a smile. His lips were smiling, not his eyes. They were taking a journey across Deborah’s face, a place they hadn’t visited in more than five years. “And your open-faced roast beef.”
Water with lemon wedges and open-faced roast beef were the words Deborah digested. He remembered. She couldn’t believe he’d actually remembered her favorite Family Café meal. She wondered what else he remembered. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He cleared his throat. “You look good.”
“Thank you.” Deborah took a sip of her lemon water, still avoiding eye contact.
“You’re welcome.” Elton thought for a moment before saying, “Your, uh, Web site…it looks great.”
“Thank you.”
“Everything Literary; nice catchy name.”
“Thank you.”
Elton sighed. “Are those the only two words you’re going to say to me?”
Now Deborah stared him straight in the eyes. “I’ve got two more words for you if those won’t do.”
He chuckled. “My Little Debbie. I see you still have quite a sense of humor. Good one.”
“Thank you.” Realizing she really was starting to sound ridiculous, she chuckled as well. They both chuckled until it turned into all-out laughter. They laughed so hard their eyes watered.
“Mind letting me in on the joke? I want to laugh too,” Zelda stated as she walked over to the table with her hands on her hips.
“Oh, hi, Sister Zelda,” Deborah greeted.
“Hey there, Miss Deborah.”
“Please, Zelda, drop the Miss.”
“I know, I know. You Northern folks don’t like that. Says it makes you feel old. I try. It’s just hard for a girl whose family has Southern roots.”
“Well, Zelda,” Elton chimed in, “I must say that I’m glad to hear you still calling her Miss.” He was looking at Deborah with telling eyes when he said it.
Shocked at his bluntness—and in front of company, too—Deborah lowered her head, trying as hard as she could not to blush.
All of a sudden, Zelda felt like a third wheel. “Uh, why don’t I go check on your meals? I’ll be back with your orders in a minute.” Zelda rushed away from the awkwardness like it was a cloud of secondhand smoke.
Deborah gathered the nerve to look up at him. “Look, Elton, before we go any further, I’m only here because you said you wanted to apologize, and as a matter of fact, I’d like to do some apologizing too.”
Elton looked puzzled. “You apologize for what?”
“For my role in the—” Deborah lowered her tone. “You know…the procedure.” She took her napkin and wiped away what wasn’t on her mouth, at the same time looking around to make sure no one was in their business.
“I’m the one who owes you an apology. You didn’t want to do it. I left you with no other option. I worked on your mind. I let the devil use me to get to you. Then I left and went on with my life knowing I had destroyed a part of yours.” He reached across the table and grabbed Deborah’s hands and caressed them in his. “A part of our life.”
Deborah closed her eyes and allowed his apology to saturate her heart. Was it sincere? She wondered. She sniffed, a habit she thought she’d gotten rid of when it came to men. She thought she’d grown enough to trust God to protect her from the hurt and pain a man could sometimes bring along.
“I mean it, Little Debbie,” Elton continued. “I know you may think that I’ve just been off playing pro ball and living the life, but believe me when I tell you…it…” His words trailed off as he got choked up. “Our baby, the choices we made, has been haunting me something fierce.”
Never one to get all emotional, at this moment Deborah couldn’t hold back the tears that formed in her eyes. What was it about Elton Culiver that just made her turn to mush? That just made her putty in that man’s hands, willing to do whatever, whenever for this man? Now, all these years later, he still had that same way about him that was responsible for her making the choice to sleep with him on her visit to Chile. That same way about him that was responsible for her making the choice to terminate her pregnancy, even though she’d been well into her second trimester. She’d heard of women being so in love that they’d commit murder for the man they loved, but she never thought she’d be weak enough to be one of them, until she found herself in the clinic that day.
“That’s why I had to see you,” Elton said, pulling his hands away from hers in order to wipe the tears before they could fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Deborah, for going along with the whole abortion thing.”
Going along with it? Deborah thought. If she recalled correctly, it was his bright idea in the first place. But still, she accepted his apology. “Apology accepted, Elton. And I’m sorry too. I was a grown woman who made a choice, a bad choice, the wrong choice…a couple of them, if I’m being honest. I should have never—”
Elton put his hand up, halting Deborah’s words when he noticed Zelda returning to their table.
“Okay, what’s really going on?” Zelda said, arriving at their table with their orders. “One minute you two are laughing like you’re watching Chris Rock on HBO, and now you two are looking like someone died.”
Deborah wiped at her eyes, making sure to get rid of all the remnants of tears. “I know you probably think we’re crazy, Zelda, but you have no idea.”
“And guess what? I’m still gon’ pray for you. I don’t need to know all the nooks and crannies to pray for you. Obviously Elton
returning is bringing back a lot of emotion.” She looked to Elton. “I remember when you two got engaged back when I was attending New Day. We threw that engagement party and everything. Then when the wedding never came and nobody ever asked any questions, I just figured the long distance thing had taken its toll on you two. So, it’s good to see you back, Elton. It’s good to see you two together again. And from the looks of things, the town of Malvonia just might get that wedding after all.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“Slumming again?” Norman asked Paige as she entered the ticket booth.
“Something like that.” She smiled. “No, really, just checking to see how things are going.” She sat down next to him, crossing her legs then patting down her skirt as to not show too much leg.
Norman couldn’t help but notice how dressed up Paige was. She normally wore khakis and a crisp white blouse to work along with her manager’s vest. He couldn’t recall her ever wearing skirts to work…and heels…and—he inhaled the flowery scent that all of a sudden filled the ticket booth—and perfume.
Paige noticed the once-over Norman was giving her. “Oh… I…uh…have choir practice after work. Felt like giving God my best.” She shrugged. “So, how is it going?” Paige asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling just enough to show a hint of her white teeth.
Once Norman could peel his eyes away from Paige’s voluptuous legs that he’d barely ever seen before, or even noticed in church, he was able to speak. “Well, you know how it is.” He could hardly finish his sentence after taking note that the top two buttons of Paige’s crisp white blouse were undone. Not just the usual one, but two were unbuttoned, exposing cleavage he’d never even seen—or, once again, never noticed—back when she was in the world. Either way it went, it was no easy feat to tear his eyes away from the peek-a-boo game her breasts were playing with him. “Mondays are, uh, even slower than Wednesdays,” he finished. “I bet there’s no more than a handful of people in each showing. Some days it doesn’t seem worth opening the doors to this place.”
