by H.H. Fowler
Tayah Paxton-Benjamin had always aspired to be the best that she could be. She saw the big picture of her life, and was determined to achieve her goals despite any obstacles she might encounter. Now at twenty-five, by secular standards she was an accomplished business guru. By spiritual assessment, she was a pillar of strength to the youth, not only at her father’s church, but also to young people who crossed her path. She believed in fortifying them with the skills required to survive in a world that had a reputation of being cruel. With God’s help, she stuck with them until she was satisfied with their progress. Their destinies were important to her.
Although her work with the youth brought her immense joy and fulfillment, it could not take away the fact that she wanted to have a baby. Even before she’d gotten married, she had spent her time imagining what it would be like to have a child – how he or she would look – or, whose personality the baby would inherit. The women in her family were fertility machines. It seemed whenever they tried, they were successful at getting pregnant. Her grandmothers, both paternal and maternal, had had four children. Her mother had three; even two of her younger cousins had at least one.
It was hard to go home and listen to a husband who blamed her for their childlessness. He made her feel useless and embarrassed to be a woman. In her moments of quietude, his words stung more than when she argued with him. It gave her time to reflect on what he’d said, which caused her to walk around with a sense of emptiness. Three years of marriage had not yielded the happiness she had anticipated.
“Did you get the opportunity to read the change of events in the memo? I know you just got in.”
Tayah peered up from her Asus notebook and noticed Ian Laing sticking his head into the boardroom. He was in charge of all the event coordinators of the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival.
“About the MLK Leadership Breakfast?” Tayah wanted to confirm. “I was about to wrap up the details on it.”
“It has been postponed. Our keynote speaker was involved in a serious accident on I-275.”
Tayah closed her notebook, her eyes staring in disbelief. She’d jokingly told the committee that things were going too smoothly for something not to happen. “How bad is it?”
“Not sure of the details. She was taken to the hospital in critical condition.”
“That’s sad.” Tayah released a sigh. “I guess you’re gonna need me to hit the communication channels. How long is it postponed? You realize a good bit of our out-of-town guests are already here.”
“Shouldn’t be more than three days.” Ian smiled at how overly concerned Tayah seemed. “Don’t worry. We have a great line-up of other speakers who are quite as knowledgeable about our theme. The challenge for us is getting one of them to fit the schedule. The other events should make a good cover. I’m sure our guests wouldn’t miss an hour or two from the celebrations. It lasts for ten whole days!”
“I should have kept my big mouth shut.”
“Stuff happens, Tayah. No need to take the blame for it.”
“I’ll send her some flowers on behalf of the committee.”
“Yes, please do. Thank you!”
Stuff happens. Ian’s words resonated with her for the moment. But why did stuff happen? Tayah thought. To be more precise, why did things like this happen to her? Why did she have to be the only female in her family who could not get pregnant? Stuff happens. Ian sounded like her mother, who was quick to tell Tayah that stuff happened for a reason – that it was God’s sovereign plan that controlled and influenced the outcome of a situation.
He was the One who intricately weaved the plots of human existence. The immensity of the concept only drew Tayah to questions that were more painful. Sometimes it got to the point where she found it difficult to accept. She, of course, loved God and believed in what He stood for, but the methodology of His ways baffled her at times. Why had He subjected her to such a reproach? Why had He restrained her from the joys of motherhood? Irony had no respect of person. She had dedicated her life to encouraging others, but now that she was faced with a dilemma of her own, she found herself needing encouragement.
She picked up her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.
“What are your plans? Can we meet for lunch so we can talk?”
“Actually, I’m happy you called. I have something I need to share with you. Just tell me where and I’ll be there.”
“Good. There’s a Chinese restaurant over on Fowler Avenue, just before Nebraska.”
“I know where it is. Half an hour is fine?”
“Half an hour it is.”
Chapter Nine
