Wendy’s heart sank. Dr. Korva told me that they take blood and vaginal swabs to run tests on all expectant mothers. The only reason they would call was if something came back abnormal.
She looked at her watch. The time was now three-fifteen. It would be a stretch to make it from the southeast side of Columbus to the northern suburb where her gynecologist’s office was located. Such a trip would take forty minutes this time of day, at the very least. Still, she tried to call the doctor’s office anyway, hoping that, with any luck, they would squeeze her in.
Shaking and short of breath, Wendy wiped her sweaty palms on her clothing and dialed the number. “Hi, this is Wendy Phillips,” she said, trying to hold back tears. “I’m returning a call to Dr. Korva. Will she be able to see me today? I can be there in about a half hour?” She altered her traveling time, expecting to increase her chance of being seen.
“Oh,” she said solemnly when the receptionist stated that Dr. Korva was running behind schedule. Wendy couldn’t be seen until Monday morning. “Well, can you tell her I’m on the line? Maybe she can just tell me the results over the phone.” She crossed her fingers, praying that she would be transferred to the doctor. No such luck. Dr. Korva preferred to talk in person. “Okay, I’ll be there at nine on Monday,” she said, confirming the time of her appointment, and hung up the phone in despair.
How am I going to make it until then? She dreaded going back to the office and arranging for a substitute through Ms. Burchett. Forget it. I’ll just call in, she opted. Sure, not submitting a request for a substitute beforehand was inconsiderate and very unprofessional, but she didn’t care at this point. Her main concern was finding some way to make it through the weekend without losing her mind.
Wendy got her stuff and headed for the car. She tried to talk herself into remaining calm, but it wasn’t working. She felt light-headed. What if my baby is retarded? What if it’s deformed or has some kind of genetic defect? she tormented herself. She was afraid of what the doctor would say. She knew it was bad news. Her fear turned into anger toward Kevin. I told him his smoking could cause damage to the child, but he didn’t believe me. If Kevin just smoked cigarettes, she could probably deal with it a little better, but he sometimes smoked marijuana, and Wendy couldn’t stand that.
Whenever she complained about his recreational activities, Kevin got upset. He would tell her that he was not doing anything she hadn’t been aware of before they got married. True, Wendy had known about his smoking when they were dating, but it was different then. She was attracted to his street-but-sweet personality. She had never dated anyone so successful yet a little rough around the edges. Plus, he was very pleasing to the eye. He reminded her of a Denzel Washington wrapped up in a Barry White voice. He was the perfect package: sexy, successful, and single.
Kevin’s accomplishments intrigued her most of all. He worked hard for everything he owned and had built his real estate business from the ground up. He was very successful and made well over six figures a year. He didn’t have parents who could afford to pay for his education. He’d paid for it himself. He hadn’t grown up in the suburbs of some major city, but had lived in various ghettos of Philadelphia. His father left home when Kevin was only three, and his mother raised him, his older brother, and his sister with money she received from the federal government. He hadn’t let his life’s circumstances prevent him from making something of himself, and Wendy respected that.
Foolishly, she had convinced herself that Kevin would change the things she didn’t like about him once they married, but he hadn’t. Now, nearly six months into the marriage, the honeymoon was well over and reality had settled in. If something is wrong with the baby, I know it’ll be all his fault, Wendy told herself.
Chapter Two
No Ordinary Sunday
IT WAS COLD AND WINDY OUTSIDE, but the atmosphere inside the two-story home owned by Michael and Marlene Tibbs for the last twenty years was very warm and cozy. The house was just the right size for a couple with two adult children, two grandchildren, and more on the way. They had three bedrooms with a full bath upstairs and a half-bath downstairs in the partially finished basement. In the summer, Marlene enjoyed sitting outside on the deck that Michael had built and watching the kids play or having barbecues with her family. When they first bought the house, it had been painted green outside and every room inside was a different color. After much debate about the exterior, the couple finally settled on a soft, baby-blue paint job, and the inside rooms were all painted the same neutral color.
The living room was Marlene’s favorite place in the house. Its decorations constituted a miniature African museum. Marlene had always harbored a great love for Africa. During her childhood, her best friend had been from Morocco, and Marlene learned a great deal about African culture from her. As a thirtieth-wedding-anniversary present to their parents, Wendy and Kim had bought them a two-week vacation package to Kenya. After that trip, Marlene had embarked on giving her living room an African decor.
Although Marlene took pride in how well she had decorated the living room, the kitchen was where she often did her best work. In honor of her husband’s fifty-fifth birthday, she had made all of his favorite dishes. Marlene had spent the afternoon cooking corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, dinner rolls, and fried chicken. She also made a pot of green beans; not because they were Michael’s favorite, but because she just couldn’t stand having a formal dinner without any green vegetables.
“We can eat now,” Marlene announced, walking out of the kitchen and carrying the last entrée. Seeing her family gathered around the dining room table reminded Marlene of when Kim and Wendy were children and how all of them would eat dinner together every night. Now the girls had their own lives. Newlyweds, Wendy and Kevin were expecting their first child, and Kim’s two small children, Tori and Tyler, along with her boyfriend, Terrance, kept her busy. Unfortunately, the Tibbs family didn’t get together very often for formal dinners unless it was a holiday or some other special occasion.
“Baby, everything smells really good,” Michael said.
The rest of the family agreed.
“Thanks,” Marlene said, and took her seat. After their girls moved out of the house, Michael and Marlene had enjoyed being empty nesters for a while. The telephone didn’t ring as much, the TV wasn’t on all night, and the radio stayed at a volume that was enjoyable. Now they had Marlene’s mother, Frances, living with them. She was in her early seventies and brought a whole new set of issues for the couple to deal with, such as waking up to the smell of BenGay, uncontrollable flatulence, or finding teeth soaking in one of their good cups.
Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Michael said grace. “Father, I want to thank You for this meal that has been prepared for us. Please use this food to strengthen and nourish our bodies. In the name of Jesus, I pray, amen.” He kept his prayer short and simple. Church had let out a little later than normal that day and Marlene still had to go to the grocery store afterwards. It was almost six o’clock, and Michael hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Being nearly six foot tall and one hundred and ninety-seven pounds, he normally didn’t go too long without food.
“Pastah know he brought forth some good word today.” Michael looked up as Frances began speaking, only to see remnants of macaroni and cheese between her chubby cheeks. He wished that his mother-in-law would learn to swallow her food before striking up a conversation.
“Mm-hmm, he sho’ did,” Marlene said, seconding her mother’s statement. “Kim, the choir sang that one song you used to like when you were a little girl. What’s the name of it, Wendy?”
“ ‘Safe in His Arms,’ ” Wendy announced quietly. She wasn’t in a talkative mood. The entire weekend she’d been stressing about what the doctor would tell her tomorrow.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Marlene confirmed. “Sister Rogers sang lead and tore that song up! That woman can really sing.”
“What did Pa
stor Jones preach about?” Kim asked.
The question caught Frances so off guard that her semi-pleasant expression turned into a scowl and she became very defensive. “Well, you can’t expect me to remember ev’rything he say word for word. I just know it was some good word. Maybe if you show up ev’ry now and then you would know for yourself what he was preachin’ about and you wouldn’t have to rely on secondhand information.” This time it was the green beans that everyone, except for Michael, got the displeasure of seeing. He knew to keep his eyes on his plate.
“Mama, please don’t speak to Kim that way. She asked a reasonable question.” Marlene sighed. She knew that Frances’s comments had lit a fire, and she desperately wanted to put it out.
“I know what that chile was doin’. She was tryin’ to question my Christianity.” Frances imitated Kim: “ ‘What did Pastah Jones preach about?’ Like she really care about what he said. If she did, she would have been there. Ain’t that what the Word say? Forsake not the assemblin’ of ourselves together. You ought to take them children to church yourself instead of sending them with your mama ev’ry Sunday.”
The more Frances spoke, the higher Kim’s blood pressure rose. Her almond-colored skin wrinkled as she frowned. Her temples began pulsating and everyone could tell she was angry. Kim had completely lost her appetite as her eyes glared at her grandmother. Terrance reached over to pat Kim on the back as if to say Calm down, sweetie, but it was too late. By the time he touched her, Kim had already made up her mind that she wasn’t going to sit there and let that woman attack her without striking back.
“First of all,” Kim began, “I wasn’t trying to question your Christianity. And even if I was, why would you be upset if it’s as secure as you claim it to be?” Frances had indeed started the fire; Kim was just adding fuel. Her emphasis on the word if cut Frances as sharply as a knife. “You were saying how good he was like you were about to start speaking in tongues and now you can’t tell me what he spoke about. Okay, maybe I do need to go to church, but it looks like you need to stay awake when you go. You apparently got just as much out of the service as I did: nothing!”
The heat in the Tibbs household rose ten degrees and no one had even touched the thermostat. A very uncomfortable silence filled the air. Michael continued eating as though nothing had taken place. The silence was interrupted only whenever his fork hit the plate. Although he thought Kim was being very disrespectful, he believed it was about time someone told Frances about herself.
Everyone knew that what Kim said was true. Frances was known to fall asleep during church and wake up every now and then just to join the rest of the congregation in saying “Amen.” Even so, no one ever had the audacity to call her on it until now. There had been tension between Frances and Kim ever since Kim had gotten pregnant with Tori. Frances gave her such a hard time about it that Kim’s tolerance for her grandmother’s verbal abuse had gotten very low. Today everyone got a glimpse of just how tired of Frances Kim was.
“Pastor spoke on three reasons why we have pain in our lives and why God allows us to go through some things,” Wendy interjected. She knew that things could get a lot worse if she didn’t speak up, and she didn’t feel like witnessing a family feud.
“It was a really good sermon, Kim,” Marlene replied. She was glad Wendy had broken the code of silence.
“I got that part . . . that it was a really ‘good sermon’ ”—Kim was still very irritated—“but what did he say?” She glanced at her grandmother, who was clearly upset that someone was going to fill her in on that morning’s events. Frances sat with her eyes closed as she folded her plump arms across her chest. At this point, Kim no longer cared what the service was about. The whole ordeal with her grandmother had made her uninterested. Nevertheless, she would listen anyhow because she knew how much it would bother Frances.
“Basically, he gave three reasons why God allows pain in our lives. The first one is that it teaches us how to handle blessings humbly,” Marlene stated.
“He said that God hates pride. There will always be something in our lives that keeps us humble,” Kevin jumped in.
“Like what?” Terrance asked.
Kevin shrugged his shoulders. “It could be anything. Most likely something you’ve done in the past, like skeletons that you don’t want falling out of the closet.”
“Oh, I see . . .” Terrance paused to reflect on the point. He hadn’t grown up in church like Kim had. He went with Kim occasionally when they were teenagers, but when she stopped going, so did he. He enjoyed listening to her family talk about Pastor Jones’s sermons, however. It seemed like Pastor Jones didn’t talk at his congregation as though he was three steps closer to heaven than they would ever be. Rather, he appeared to be very down-to-earth and spoke in such a way that they understood what he said and could apply his messages to their lives.
“Secondly, our pain teaches us how to submit to God’s will,” Marlene revealed. “One of the ways we learn to submit to God is through our failures, because sometimes our failures are back doors to blessings.”
“What was the third reason he mentioned?” Kim asked her mother as her interest in the sermon was sparked.
“That our pain or even our problems teach us to rely on God.”
Kevin looked at Terrance. “It was real cool, man. You and Kim should come with us one Sunday.”
Kim wanted to laugh when Kevin added his two cents to the conversation. He only went to church every blue moon, yet he said they should come with them as though he was there faithfully every Sunday.
“Maybe one day we will; I’m sure Kim and I have done some stuff worthy of repentance,” Terrance responded to Kevin’s invitation.
“I think that’s the case with all of us. Ain’t that right, honey?” Marlene nudged her husband.
“Yeah, um-hmm,” Michael said. He hadn’t planned on joining the conversation. While everyone else had stopped eating or slowed down to start talking, he was getting ready to work on his second round of food.
“As Pastor Jones always says, ‘It doesn’t matter if you’ve committed many sins or a few. Either way, it’s a debt we couldn’t pay and we’re all covered under the same blood,’” Marlene affirmed.
Everyone except Frances nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why y’all waste your time tellin’ her what Pastah preached on,” Frances blurted out, interrupting Kim’s state of tranquility. “It ain’t like she gonna take the Word and live by it. Um-hmm . . . we sho’ nuf is covered under the same blood all right, but the Bible also say that if one should sin willingly after they have received the truth then there is no other sacrifice for that person’s sins. Oh Glory Hallelujah,” Frances said, and lifted her hands in the air as though she just felt The Spirit. “I hate to be the one to tell y’all this, but that chile is goin’ to hell!”
The nerve Frances had previously struck in Kim was reignited. “You know what? You might as well reserve your seat right next to mine ’cuz I won’t be burnin’ by myself,” Kim snapped.
“Uh . . .” Frances gasped.
“Kimberly Michele Tibbs, apologize to your grandmother right this minute! I will not allow you to disrespect her like that,” Marlene said sternly, although she knew that her mother was out of line. Still, she had raised her kids to be respectful toward their elders. No matter what Frances said, Kim had no right to respond to her the way she did.
“Mama, I get tired of her getting on my back all of the time,” Kim said defensively.
“She is right, you know. You do need to go to church every now and again.”
“Oh boy, here we go with the ‘you need to go to church’ speech!” Kim abruptly left the table and marched into the kitchen. Terrance followed behind her.
If Michael hadn’t grabbed Marlene by the arm, she would’ve been on her way into the kitchen to knock some do right into that child of hers.
“Baby, just let her go,” he said calmly.
“The girl’s gotta a lil’ attitude, I see. There’s always
a bad apple in every bunch. I know the devil when I see him and that girl is full of him,” Frances sneered.
“Mama, please stop—”
“Well she is. Y’all wanna get mad at me and I’m just speakin’ the truth. John 8:32 says, ‘And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.’ Y’all don’t wanna be set free. I know the devil when I see him. I got the gift of discernment,” Frances said smugly.
“Mama, just drop it, please. We are supposed to be celebrating Michael’s birthday today. Have you forgotten that?”
Frances mumbled, imitating Marlene. “‘Mama, just drop it, please.’ I can’t help it that your chile is evil. It’s a good thing that she don’t go to church—as much wrong as she’s done, she wouldn’t feel comfortable there nohow!” She tried to take a bite of her corn, but the lump left in her throat from Kim’s outburst made it hard for her to swallow.
Michael always tried to stay out of it when the ladies argued, but it really got under his skin hearing his mother-in-law verbally assault his baby girl. Sure, he didn’t like the fact that Kim had given birth to her children out of wedlock and was living with her boyfriend. However, none of that changed the fact that she was his daughter and he loved her. “Ladies, please! Mama Gibson, out of respect for my house, my daughter, and me, I am going to insist that you be more cordial to Kim. No matter what you think about her, she is still our daughter and your granddaughter.”
“Well ex-cuse me! I thought that I lived here too, but thank you for reminding me about whose house this is.”
Marlene put her head in her hands. She would jump in between her mother and her daughter, but when it was her husband and her mother she tried to stay out of it. Michael was a man of few words. When he did say something, it was a clear indication that he’d had enough.
Tyler was so busy playing with his food that he was unaware of what had been going on. He drowned out the adults and entertained himself by mixing all of his side items together. His resemblance to his father was eerie. Take away the mustache, the muscles, and about three feet, and left standing would be a four-year-old replica of Terrance. It was as if Kim didn’t have anything to do with Tyler’s genetic makeup at all.
Soul Matters Page 2
