When All Is Said and Prayed

by E. N. Joy

Mrs. Vanderdale nodded. “Yes. And I’ve both apologized and repented for those things.”

  “Well, even though a person might apologize for something they said, and repent for something they said, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they didn’t mean what they said.”

  “Paige Vanderdale,” Mrs. Vanderdale said in an accusing tone. “Are you trying to insinuate that I’m the one who planted that thought in my own granddaughter’s head?”

  Paige remained silent.

  “Well.” Mrs. Vanderdale stood there, fluttering her eyelids as her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve changed, and I honestly thought I had shown and proven to everyone just how much I’ve changed.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry that I failed, with you at least.” She walked over to the huge picture window that offered a view of the front lawn. She stared outside.

  “Naomi, I’m sorry,” Paige said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I love you. I think you are a beautiful woman. But we all have flaws, and sometimes we do and say things that we don’t realized can have an effect on someone else, especially kids.”

  Mrs. Vanderdale whipped around. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Paige. I’ve always been aware of the things I’ve said and done. I’ve always womaned up and assumed accountability. So for you to try to insinuate that I’m some dumb blonde who doesn’t filter her mouth and is clueless . . . I’m truly offended. And if that is the case, maybe you’re not the person I thought you were.”

  “Me?” Paige questioned, pointing to her chest. “Are you really going to try to turn this around on me?” Paige walked over to Mrs. Vanderdale.

  “The fact that you come to my home, smile in my face, all the while thinking I could be capable of doing . . . of saying such a thing . . . That means that you are a fake and a phony.”

  Paige could feel her blood begin to boil. If someone had called the old Paige fake and phony, she would have been all up in their face, finger-pointing and neck snapping. But over the years Paige had learned something called a little self-control. But boy, oh, boy, did her flesh just want to rise up right about now and do some name-calling of its own. “Ooh, just let me at her. Let me at her,” Paige’s inner woman pleaded. But thank God for her spirit woman, who managed to whip and kick her flesh’s butt.

  “Mrs. Vanderdale, let’s not do any name-calling here,” Paige said. She addressed the woman in such a way as to show her she had the utmost respect for her. “We are both grown women here. I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this without losing our integrity or saying something we won’t be able to take back.”

  “You started it,” Mrs. Vanderdale said, sounding more like Norma and Adele during a fight than a woman on the other side of sixty. “You called me a name first.”

  Paige thought for a moment, trying to recall the words she’d spoken to Mrs. Vanderdale. She was certain she had not stood in this woman’s home and called her a name. “I did not call you a name,” she insisted.

  “Well, you might not have outright said it, but in so many words you are calling me a prejudiced person and a liar.”

  “I said no such thing,” Paige declared.

  “Oh, but you did.” Mrs. Vanderdale pointed in Paige’s face. “For you to accuse me of telling Norma that she’s better than Adele because her skin is lighter is basically calling me prejudiced. It’s saying that I have a prejudice against dark skin. I said some awful things about black people in the past, but that was all out of pure ignorance. I said I was wrong about both saying it and what I said. So for you to say that perhaps deep inside those feelings—those thoughts—still exist is calling me a liar. I got delivered from those ways. God delivered me. I asked Him to, He said He would, and He did.” Mrs. Vanderdale was good and up in Paige’s face with her pointed finger now. “So I guess that means you’re calling God a liar too!”

  Paige stared down at Mrs. Vanderdale’s finger. She then looked up at Mrs. Vanderdale. “You might wanna move that thing. I’m saved, but I ain’t that saved.”

  Mrs. Vanderdale looked down at her finger. She then sucked her teeth and stormed off, mumbling, “You people,” under her breath.

  Chapter 4

  “You people!” Paige snapped. She couldn’t believe Mrs. Vanderdale had just said that, but then again, perhaps she could. After all, that was the reason why she was there to confront her in the first place. She had suspected that like an alcoholic who had been clean for years, Mrs. Vanderdale had fallen off the wagon. Her last comment was evidence that she had. No one liked to be wrong, but in this instance, Paige wished to God that she had made an error.

  Her daughters loved their grandma Vanderdale. They loved spending time at the Vanderdale home with the Vanderdale family. It would be a shame if Paige had to keep her girls away, but she would if it meant protecting their impressionable minds.

  “You people,” Paige repeated, shaking her head.

  Mrs. Vanderdale stopped in her tracks, turned around to face Paige, and then paused. She’d noted the tone of voice with which Paige had just repeated her words, and now she read the expression on Paige’s face. Mrs. Vanderdale instantly started shaking her head and walking back toward Paige.

  “I know what you are thinking, and that’s not what I meant,” she protested. “When I said the words ‘you people, ’ I meant you people, as in your kind of Christians,” Mrs. Vanderdale explained. “Christians who choose when they want to act holy and then justify their actions when they don’t. Making up excuses and blaming their reactions based on someone else’s actions.” Mrs. Vanderdale was now back up in Paige’s face. “But I see your mind is so hell-bent on this whole race thing that you can’t allow yourself to go anywhere else but to the race card. Shame on you, Paige Vanderdale. Shame on you!” Mrs. Vanderdale hollered, wagging an accusing finger in Paige’s face.

  Reading Mrs. Vanderdale’s expression and seeing how hurt she looked, for a split second Paige thought that there was a possibility that Mrs. Vanderdale was telling the truth.

  “You are pointing your finger at the wrong person,” Mrs. Vanderdale said.

  “Well, right now you’re the only one pointing fingers here, and I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly step out of my space.” Paige looked down. “You and your finger.”

  Mrs. Vanderdale respected Paige’s space and her wish and stepped back, placing both hands down at her sides.

  “Now look, Naomi,” Paige began in an apologetic voice. “I’m sorry if I offended you or came at you wrong, but someone has been feeding my child poison. As a mother bear, my instinct is to hunt down the guilty party and put an end to it. As a mother, you must understand how I feel.”

  “I understand a mother protecting her child,” Mrs. Vanderdale said in a trembling voice, on the verge of tears. “But I did not put the idea of white being better than black, light being better than dark, or any other form of that nonsense in either of my grandchildren’s minds.”

  Paige stood there, taking in everything about Mrs. Vanderdale. Her expression, her tone, the look in her eyes. She was convinced that her former mother-in-law was telling the truth. “I believe you, Naomi, and I’m sorry about offending you. But the question still remains, if you didn’t tell Norma that light skin was prettier than dark, then who could have?”

  “It was me.”

  Both Paige and Naomi turned to see to whom the voice they had just heard belonged. Neither of them would have imagined in a million years that the person claiming to be the culprit behind all this mess was really the guilty party.

  “Samantha,” Mrs. Vanderdale said. That her own flesh and blood was responsible for these teachings hurt her to the core. Like any mother, she felt responsible. Parents were their children’s first teacher. Had Mrs. Vanderdale’s actions and what she’d thought about black people for years rubbed off on her daughter? And had they been passed down to her grandchildren? Where would the curse stop? Mrs. Vanderdale bit down on her knuckles in agony at the thought that she was, in fact, indirectly responsible for the words that had come out of
little Norma’s mouth.

  Paige walked over to Samantha in disbelief. “Sam?” she said. “I don’t know what to say.” Paige would have never pegged Sam as one likely to pass on such foolishness to the girls. She had been Paige’s biggest cheerleader when she became a part of the family. Color had never been an issue with Samantha, not even when little chocolate Adele was born and her brother signed the birth certificate as Adele’s father. Samantha had accepted that child, had cared for her, had loved on her, and had babysat whenever she was called upon, just like a good auntie would. She’d done the same with Norma, never once making a distinction between the two girls. At least not as far as Paige could tell. But the words right out of her own mouth indicated that she had been treating her nieces differently.

  “Dad and I were out riding,” Samantha began. “When we came in, we could hear you and Mom in here arguing. Miss Nettie told us what was going on.” Samantha looked down and began to wring her fingers. “I told them I had to get in here quick and straighten everything out.” She found the courage to look back up at Paige. “When Katie and I were scrolling through my Instagram news feed, we were discussing some of the posts. I was sitting for the girls that day, I believe.”

  Both Paige and Mrs. Vanderdale listened intently.

  Samantha continued. “We kept seeing all these ‘Keep calm’ posts.”

  “Keep calm?” Mrs. Vanderdale questioned.

  “Yeah. That thing people do on social media,” Samantha informed her and then proceeded to give her some examples. “Keep calm. It’s Friday. Keep calm. It’s my birthday.”

  “Oh, I see.” Mrs. Vanderdale nodded in understanding.

  “I was reading the post out loud to Katie.” Katie was Samantha’s life partner.

  For years Mr. and Mrs. Vanderdale had thought that Norman was gay because he never brought women home or mentioned having a girlfriend. That was why when Norman married Paige without them having ever even meeting her, Mrs. Vanderdale wasn’t the least bit upset. She was just glad her only son wasn’t gay, increasing her chances of having a boatload of grandchildren. But once she met Paige and saw that she was a black woman, she had to determine exactly which was the worst of the two evils.

  But, of course, she’d gotten past that, and she’d gotten saved. And thank God for Samantha that she had. The old Mrs. Vanderdale probably would have shunned Samantha, kept her away from the family, or had a real heart attack. But God had touched her heart. God had touched her mind. She was able to love and accept her daughter with the love of Christ. But that didn’t mean she didn’t use every opportunity she could to preach the gospel to Samantha and Katie, tell them about what God said about their relationship. She always spoke with a loving spirit versus a condemning one.

  “I kept coming across all these posts that said, ‘Keep calm. I’m on team light skin,’” Samantha said. “Then we’d see a post that would say, ‘Keep calm. I’m on team dark skin.’ Katie and I, both being white girls, didn’t understand the posts. I asked a couple people to explain, and they did. It was just crazy to us. How could a single race basically have prejudices among itself? I was actually going back and forth with some of the people posting that type of ignorance, trying to get an understanding of it all. For most people, it was just a joke, and they didn’t mean anything by it, but I didn’t get the punch line. I thought it was just stupid and weird that a race would be hating on each other because of the shade of their skin.”

  Paige spoke up. “I think it’s stupid too. I was a victim of the stupidity while I was growing up. But I guess I don’t know what this has to do with Norma and Adele. How they would know about all of this.”

  “They were sitting right there, watching television.” Samantha put her head down in shame. “At least I thought they were watching television. But clearly, they heard us and were paying attention to everything we were discussing, everything I read, and all the back-and-forth posts I was repeating to Katie. Things like ‘Dark-skinned women are mad and bitter because they are dark’ and ‘Light-skinned women are just happy and positive because they have the light, pretty skin.’ I mean, it was sickening what some of them were saying.” She looked up at Paige with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry, sis.” She took Paige’s hands in hers. “I should have been more careful.”

  “You should have never been having that kind of discussion while the girls were in earshot, period,” Mrs. Vanderdale told her daughter.

  “I know,” Samantha agreed. “I see that now. But I swear I didn’t mean any harm, and I absolutely did not mirror or side with the whole team light skin, team dark skin thing. I was just so shocked and appalled that I really almost forgot the girls were even there.”

  “Well, they were paying attention to what was going on, all right, and now little Norma, apparently, is on team light skin.” Paige sighed. She went and sat down on the couch. “Guess I’m going to have to have a talk with her.”

  “Allow me to as well,” Samantha said. “As a matter of fact, perhaps it would be a great idea if both sides of the girls’ family talk with them, and they can hear how we all feel about the situation. We can reaffirm that skin color, race don’t matter. That we are all family.”

  Paige thought about it for a minute. Having both sides of the family come together to discuss the issue was a good idea. The room would be full of different races and complexions, all under one roof. All on the same team, so to speak. “Sure. Sounds nice,” Paige agreed. She let out a deep breath. She’d come to the Vanderdales’ home to get to the bottom of things, and she had. All was well.

  Paige stood to prepare to go. Her eyes locked with Mrs. Vanderdale’s. The other woman stood there with tears falling from her eyes. Perhaps all was not well, after all. She walked over to comfort Mrs. Vanderdale. Apparently, old wounds from the past had come back to haunt the woman. Paige had learned a lot about that, and unbeknownst to Paige, she was about to get another crash course in it.

  Chapter 5

  “Thank you so much for having us,” Paige’s mother said as Mr. and Mrs. Vanderdale walked her and her husband to the front door.

  Norma and Adele were in the downstairs television room with Samantha and Katie. Paige was seeing her parents out as well.

  “It was our pleasure,” Mrs. Vanderdale said. “I’m just glad we were able to get together and accomplish what we set out to do.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Paige agreed.

  They had been successful at discussing with Norma and Adele the whole skin color issue. They were all comfortable with having put the issue to rest. Could the subject matter perhaps come up again in dealing with other children and the outside world? Absolutely. But at least they’d planted the seed for how the girls should react to it. The lesson was that at the end of the day, they were all, plain and simply put, human beings.

  “Both sides of the girls’ family are going to have to get together for dinner more often,” said Mr. Robinson, Paige’s father, as he shook Mr. Vanderdale’s hand. “My wife can burn in the kitchen.”

  Mrs. Robinson smiled.

  Leaning into Mr. Vanderdale, Mr. Robinson whispered, “But that Miss Nettie’s cooking . . . ump, ump, ump.” He shook his head and licked his lips.

  Mrs. Robinson play punched her husband in the arm.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Mrs. Vanderdale said to Mrs. Robinson, smiling. “I get that all the time from my own husband.”

  “Yes, that Miss Nettie can throw down,” Paige said, rubbing her stomach. She looked around. “By the way, where is she? I haven’t seen her in a minute.”

  Mrs. Vanderdale made a shooing motion with her hand. “Probably off somewhere with Stuart.”

  “Yeah,” Mr. Vanderdale said with furrowed eyebrows. “I’ve noticed those two have been spending quite a bit of time together. Anything I need to know about, like a budding relationship of sorts?” He looked at his wife.

  Mrs. Vanderdale shook her head and raised her arms. “Not that I know of. The two have worked here together for years. I imagine they�
��ve forged some sort of bond over time.”

  Mr. Vanderdale shrugged. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

  “Anyway,” Mr. Robinson said, “the food was delicious and the company impeccable.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Mr. Vanderdale agreed, opening the front door.

  “Be careful getting home, Mom and Dad,” Paige said after giving her parents a hug and a kiss good-bye.

  Mr. Vanderdale closed and locked up the door after the Robinsons exited. “Well, I think I’m going to go start getting ready to turn in for the night,” Mr. Vanderdale said, then looked at his watch. “It’s after seven p.m. Way past my bed curfew.”

  Both Mrs. Vanderdale and Paige chuckled.

  “I’ll be up in a bit, honey,” Mrs. Vanderdale said. She smiled, then kissed her husband on the lips.

  “Good evening, Paige.” Mr. Vanderdale patted Paige on the shoulder before he headed up the steps.

  “Good night.” Paige watched Mrs. Vanderdale as she watched her husband go up the steps to the top landing and then head down the hallway until he was no longer in view. Mrs. Vanderdale had the sweetest smile on her face. It was as if she was watching her first crush walk down the school corridor. “How do you guys do that?” Paige asked.

  Mrs. Vanderdale turned her attention to Paige. “Do what?”

  “Stay in love and adore one another so much after all these years?” Paige asked. “What’s it been like for the thirty-five years that you guys have been married?”

  A huge smile spread across Mrs. Vanderdale’s face. “Thirty-seven,” she said with such pride. “And you’re right. I’m in love with that man today just as much as I was the day I married him.” She looked at the steps that her husband had just scaled. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe even more.”

  Paige sighed. She was glad to see a happily married couple so in love after all these years. At the same time, she couldn’t help but be envious of them. She’d thought Blake was going to be her happily ever after. When she’d first met him, he’d been everything she had imagined in a man. He’d fit the cliché of tall, dark, and handsome to a tee. He’d been so kind, loving, and generous. He’d made Paige feel as though she was the only woman in the world.