Right Package, Wrong Baggage

by Wanda B. Campbell

  His life would never be the same after tonight thanks to Pamela. He knew now more than ever that she was the one God created just for him, his soul mate. Now that he knew she felt the same about him, the time had come to discuss their future. However, he couldn’t do that without first disclosing his past. With everything in him, Micah feared what would happen; how Pamela would react, but he had to tell her. He refused to have any dark secrets hanging over their life together; he loved Pamela too much for that.

  “As long as I live, I’ll never forget today,” Micah said, standing next to Pamela’s car door after loading the last box of decorations into her trunk.

  “Glad I could help you make good memories.”

  “Pamela, every day with you is a good memory.” Pamela leaned against her car to keep from falling. Her knees were weak again.

  “It’ s late; y’all can do that cup-caking tomorrow. I need to get some sleep,” Dorothy barked from the front passenger seat. It was then Pamela second-guessed her suggestion that her parents stay at the town house tonight instead of driving all the way to Vallejo. Pamela, well aware of the time, didn’t want to leave Micah’s presence. She’d never felt this connected to another human being before, and the clock on the console reading ten minutes before midnight didn’t deflate her happiness at all.

  Micah leaned inside the car. “I’m sorry, Mother Dorothy. I know you worked hard today. Thank you so much for helping Pamela plan my party.”

  “That’s all right, baby, take your time,” Dorothy smiled back at him.

  Pamela’s head jerked in her mother’s direction. Dorothy was still smiling. Micah had won her mother over with one simple word: mother.

  “Your mother is right,” he said moving closer to Pamela, “it is late and you need some rest. You worked hard today. Thank you again for everything. I love you.” Micah was about to kiss her on the lips, but his eyes caught a glimpse of her father in the backseat, staring at him, and this time, Henry wasn’t smiling. Micah settled for kissing her hand. “See you tomorrow, love.”

  “I’ll save you a seat in church,” Pamela whispered after returning the sentiment.

  Pamela strapped on her seat belt and prayed her mother wouldn’t nag her all the way home about the future of her relationship with Micah, because she didn’t have any answers. All Pamela knew was she didn’t want to spend one more day of her life without Micah Stevenson.

  Chapter 9

  Sunday service was exhilarating. Neither Pamela nor Micah could keep still. Pastor Jackson danced so hard, sweat actually dripped down his face. Halfway through service, he removed both his suit jacket and tie. In fact, the Spirit was so high he didn’t get to preach. Praise and worship started off with “Lord, You Are Good,” and the congregation praised God for just how good He is. In the end, Pastor Jackson exhorted a scripture, and after the deacons raised the general offering, service was dismissed.

  “I know the two of you worked up an appetite with all that dancing you were doing,” AC teased Pamela and Micah after service. “How about dinner at the Chinese buffet; my treat?”

  “Um-man-I-um,” Micah fumbled.

  “Let me guess. The two of you have plans?”

  “Actually we do,” Pamela answered, then looked at her friend. “But Jessica’s free.”

  Jessica’s mouth fell open. AC smirked.

  “Payback is something, isn’t it?” Pamela whispered in Jessica’s ear.

  “That sounds like a great idea,” Micah quickly cosigned.

  “Come on, honey, let’s leave before they lay hands on us.” Pamela grabbed Micah’s hand and took off in search of her parents and Matthew.

  Later, during dinner, Micah tried to hold a conversation with Henry, but it was hard, almost impossible. His mind was cluttered with thoughts of Pamela. Dinner was a show of gratitude to the Jacobses for helping Pamela plan his birthday party. Right now, what he desired most was some quiet time with the beautiful woman seated on his right, but Henry wanted to talk. I’ll send a thank you card next time, he thought as Henry went on and on about the upcoming baseball season.

  “Grandpa, I start playing T-ball on Tuesday,” Matthew announced. “And my dad is going to coach my team.”

  Pamela suddenly became parched and downed her glass of water.

  Micah stopped chewing his food.

  Dorothy didn’t appear to be bothered at all by Matthew referring to Micah as his dad; instead, she teased her daughter. “Baby, I’ve seen you drink more water since dating Micah than I have in the past year.”

  “The dry weather makes my throat dry,” Pamela explained.

  “That’s interesting, especially since the Bay Area just finished a record-breaking rainy season.” Dorothy giggled and Micah chuckled.

  “Is that right?” Henry baited his grandson. “Your dad is going to coach? What position are you going to play?”

  “First base, but my dad said my arm is good enough to play outfield too,” Matthew replied.

  “Micah says a lot of things,” Dorothy smiled, and then turned to Micah. “Micah, tell me, do you also ask questions? You know, the kind of question that the answer would involve the exchanging of something round with a stone on it?”

  “Mama!” Pamela exclaimed.

  “Mama nothing,” Dorothy smirked. “Jessica told me what happened in the kitchen before I caught y’all.”

  “She told me too,” Henry added, facing Micah. “But I want to hear it firsthand.”

  Matthew trotted off to the buffet to make his own ice-cream cone. Pamela started to go with him, but Micah restrained her.

  After clearing his throat, Micah responded. “Mr. Henry, if you’re asking me if I’m in love with your daughter, the answer is yes.” Micah paused and smiled at Pamela, causing her to blush once again. “Do I love Matthew? Yes. If you’re asking what our future plans are, I can’t discuss that with you until Pamela and I have discussed it first.”

  “Well, when are you going to talk?” Dorothy pressed.

  Melodious laughter poured from Micah. “Mother Dorothy, you remind me of my aunt. You say exactly what’s on your mind.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” Pamela mumbled underneath her breath.

  “Son, I look forward to some good news real soon.” Henry patted him on the shoulder.

  Pamela shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two. You’re practically pushing me off. Why don’t you embarrass me further by attaching a big cardboard sign around my neck that reads, TAKE HER PLEASE?”

  “I will just as soon as that dry throat passes,” Dorothy answered.

  Pamela joined in with the group and laughed at her behavior. She remained uncomfortable, but relaxed when Micah casually placed his arm around her shoulder.

  Dorothy retrieved her digital camera from her purse and shared the pictures from the birthday party with Micah. He enjoyed every one of them, but the one that captured his heart was the one with Pamela, Matthew, and himself. They looked so good together, like they belonged together. Like a family, he thought.

  “Mother Dorothy, can you make me an enlarged copy of this one?” he asked, handing back the camera.

  “I knew you would like that one.” Dorothy smiled at Micah, and then asked Pamela, “Would you like some more water?”

  Matthew returned with a super-sized chocolate and vanillaswirled ice-cream cone. “Mommy, you can have my water, I’m not thirsty.”

  Pamela threw her hands up. “Not you too,” she said before taking a sip from his glass.

  Chapter 10

  Pamela danced around her town house to Kirk Franklin’s latest CD. She was supposed to be cleaning house, but was too excited about her date later that evening with Micah. In the month since their declarations of love, their bond had grown stronger every day, and their romance had become more intense. Daily, Micah professed his love for her. His special deeds toward her and the continuous attention caused thoughts of Micah to constantly occupy her mind. His smooth voice was the first sound she heard every morn
ing and the last before closing her eyes at night. A couple of times she fell asleep with the phone tucked between her neck and shoulder.

  The three of them had dinner together two nights a week, with Micah and Pamela taking turns cooking. Micah loved her turkey spaghetti, and she couldn’t get enough of his baked chicken smothered with cream of mushroom soup. On most days after T-ball practice, Micah helped Matthew with his homework to allow Pamela time to unwind from her busy day. Some nights he read Matthew a bedtime Bible story before he tucked him in for the night. He would then sit with Pamela until she fell asleep.

  Saturdays were spent outside watching T-ball games. In the beginning of the season, Pamela cheered from the stands, but then she noticed a few single moms practically throwing themselves at Micah. From that moment on, Pamela made sure every female, single or married, sitting in the stands understood that Micah Stevenson was already taken. Pamela even went as far as to bring him water and wipe the sweat from his forehead between innings. She also made a point never to address Micah as “Coach” in the ladies’ presence, opting for “honey” instead.

  After T-ball, Pamela and Matthew cheered from the stands while Micah coached the church’s team. On Sundays, they always ate dinner together after church.

  Pamela had been praying and seeking God the entire month concerning Micah, and she was as sure as she knew her name Micah was her ordained mate—her Boaz and Matthew’s new father. The only thing that puzzled her was the proper timing. She desired to be married before the fall season, or else she would have to wait until next spring for her dream wedding on the beach. It was the beginning of June. She had four months to get Micah to propose and plan a wedding before the end of October.

  On a daily basis, anticipation and anxiety nearly consumed her. Pamela had already experienced a bad man, now she was eager to have the love of a good one. She looked forward to sharing her life and her bed with someone who loved and cherished her. Pamela yearned to freely give her love to someone and to have that love returned. Deep down, she wanted to give her trust and not worry about it being abused. She wanted to experience the excitement of a man coming home, and then the two of them spending the night giving each other the love each needed and deserved, freely and without reservations.

  Pamela knew Micah felt the same although he never came out and directly verbalized it. He had shared his plans to buy a house and even browsed housing magazines with her. Whenever Micah referenced the future, he always included the three of them. On a picnic at the beach, Pamela voiced her desire to visit the Bahamas. Later that evening, they surfed the Internet for resorts in Nassau. There wasn’t anything Pamela desired that Micah didn’t try to provide for her, right down to a never-ending supply of chocolate crème-filled cookies.

  Micah had called this morning and told Pamela tonight he wanted to talk about the future of their relationship. Matthew’s T-ball team had a “bye” in their schedule, so her parents picked Matthew up from after-school care yesterday and took him to Vallejo for the weekend. Pamela and Micah would have the town house to themselves. Pamela offered to cook, but Micah insisted on picking up takeout from PF Changs. “All I want you to do is look pretty,” is what he said. That’s exactly what she intended to do. She planned on wearing the ensemble he brought her for Valentine’s Day, but not if she didn’t make it to the cleaners on time to pick it up.

  Micah arose from his knees for the second time. After fasting and praying for three days and all this morning, he still didn’t have the assurance he felt he needed to tell Pamela about his past. Micah was sure of one thing, Pamela was his soul mate, but that didn’t guarantee how she would react to his history. If the situation were reversed, he couldn’t say for certain how he would react to this type of disclosure. In his heart, Micah knew Pamela needed to know before their relationship took them down the aisle, but fear remained. He drifted back to his earlier phone conversation with AC.

  “Man, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to tell her,” AC had admitted. “I mean, that’s your past and some things need to stay in the past.”

  “I hear you, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, hoping she won’t accidentally find out,” Micah responded. “If we do get married, I don’t want any secrets from my wife. I’ve seen the devastating effects of that firsthand, and I don’t want that.”

  “But that was different; you’re different.”

  “AC, think about it this way. If you were marrying an ex-prostitute, wouldn’t you want to hear it from her before you say I do ? Or would you rather have one of her johns tell you at the wedding reception? Wouldn’t you like the decision to be married to an ex-prostitute to be yours and not someone else’s?”

  “I hear you, man. I just want this to work out for you. I know how much you love her and how attached you are to Matthew.”

  “It’s supposed to be that way, she’s my soul mate, remember? And with Matthew, I can enjoy the childhood I didn’t have.”

  “Micah, you’ve earned my respect. Most brothers, and I’m talking about saved brothers, wouldn’t admit to what you’re about to for fear of backlash.”

  “Trust me, man, it’s not easy, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I am afraid, but I love Pamela too much not to tell her. I’d rather hurt her now than see her hurt later.”

  AC had said a brief but intense prayer before hanging up. Thinking back now, Micah had to admit he did fear being judged and ostracized. That was a chance he was willing to take to keep from hurting Pamela and Matthew.

  The Mission Impossible ring tone on his cell phone broke Micah’s concentration.

  “Not now,” he grumbled after he read the 773 area code. “Hello, Mother,” he answered dryly.

  “Hi, baby, how are you doing today?”

  Micah pulled the phone away from his ear to view the number again. It was his mother’s number, but the cheerful and coherent voice didn’t belong to the Helen Stevenson he knew. “Mother?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know your mother’s voice, she snapped, then softened. “I know I sound different. I ain’t had a drink in thirty days.”

  “Mother?” he said again as he stood to his feet. He gripped the phone tighter. “Is everything all right?”

  “Baby, everything is fine,” Helen answered with a hearty laugh.

  “Mother, did you say that you have stopped drinking? Did you just say you haven’t had a drink in thirty days?” He needed clarification. In the last twenty years, the longest break Helen gave her liver was twenty-four hours.

  “Yes, I did,” she answered proudly.

  “But how? When?” Micah was stumped.

  “It all started on your birthday when you said I love you’ before you rudely hung up in my face. After I finished cursing you out over the dead line, I sat on my bed and had a conversation with myself. I said, ‘Helen, as bad of a mother as you are, your son still loves you. As messed up as you are, there’s at least one person in this world who loves you. That boy has every right to hate you, but he doesn’t. Now get yourself together. ’ I had the same conversation with myself the next day, and then finished off my last bottle of Hennessy. I haven’t bought another one since.”

  In his heart, Micah thanked God for his mother’s effort and her motive behind it; however, he found it difficult to form words. “Mother, that’s wonderful!”

  “Thank you, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “What is it?” Micah became concerned again.

  “I was talking with the ladies at church the other night after Bible Study. They were bragging about their children and showing off pictures. That’s when I realized I don’t have any pictures of you to show off. I was too ashamed to tell them I didn’t even have a picture of your graduation from high school. Humph, truth be told, I don’t remember your graduation. Anyway, I want you to take some pictures to send me so I can show you off. And send me some of your girlfriend too. When I get my money together, I’m coming out there to see you.” />
  “What?” This time her words made him fall back down onto the futon and grip his chest.

  “Yeah, Robert told me about her, said she’s pretty too.” Helen laughed. “That’s good because I don’t want any ugly grandchildren.”

  “No, Mother, slow down. Did you just say you’re attending church now?” Micah knew his ears had deceived him.

  “That’s right, baby, I joined church. And I’m tired of Sister Murphy and the pastor bragging about their children, talking about how well they’re doing and how fine they are. Humph, they just don’t know, my son is fine too and doing quite well for himself out there in California working in the entertainment business. I didn’t lie either; cable is entertainment. If you ask me, Sister Murphy’s son looks like Roger Rabbit, and the pastor’s daughter is a dead ringer for one of them hyenas in the The Lion King.”

  Micah was too stunned to laugh at his mother’s musings. “Mother, are you saved?” he asked, his voice full of hope and fear of the answer.

  “At the moment, I am,” she answered after a short pause.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s like this, baby. When I joined church I said the sinner’s prayer, and I really meant it at the time, but you know how things come up, and sometimes I lose my temper. So I repeat the prayer often, you know, to make sure I’m straight. So far I’ve prayed that prayer at least twenty-five times in the past thirty days. I said it this morning, and I haven’t had any visitors yet, so I’m saved right now. But if Audrey from down the hall doesn’t pay me the five dollars she owes me today, I’m going to cuss her out.”

  “Mother!”

  “It’s okay, baby, I’ve memorized the sinner’s prayer. I don’t even wait until I get to church to say it. I say it right on the spot. Sometimes I say it beforehand, just in case I forget later.”

  Micah laughed so hard, tears rolled down his cheeks. “Mother, I’m so happy you’re going to church.”