Monica
11
When we walked into the dining room of Devin's parents' home, all eyes settled on us. I made sure to look the picture of elegance and grace because I knew how his parents, especially his mother, felt about me. For some reason, they didn't think I was good enough to be with their son. And the reason for them thinking this way was sitting at the table. My confident demeanor dissipated when my eyes skimmed the room and landed on the last person I expected to see at this dinner tonight.
“Son, you are late,” Mr. Woods admonished. With forehead creased, his father looked sternly at both of us. One of the things his dad didn't like was
un
punctuality.
“My apologies, Dad. I had to work late,” Devin responded as we leisurely walked deeper into the room. I hoped my dissatisfied expression wasn't noticeable to everyone as his mother spoke.
“It's okay, son,” Mrs. Woods said warmly.
“Isabelle, no, it's not. That boy is working himself to death. He needs to understand family overrides any job he is doing.”
I could feel Devin tense as I held his arm. I knew he was not happy hearing what his father was saying to him. We hadn't sat down yet, and his father was already getting on his case. Unfortunately, this was the typical thing my husband had to deal with when visiting with his parents, or should I say, his father.
Mr. Woods could be a very intimidating individual. His six foot one, 190-pound stature was brawny for a man who was sixty-three years old. His face was clean-shaven, and he still had all of his hair, which was salt and pepper in color and neatly trimmed, making him look quite distinguished. He kept a suit on. It was rare that we saw in him in jeans and sneakers. His version of dressing down was a pair of slacks and a Polo shirt. To me, it always looked like he was running for senate.
I gently clutched Devin's arm, letting him know I was here for him. He looked at me sincerely before turning his attention back to the dinner table, which sat ten people, including his parents. I knew he hadn't notice the individual who didn't belong, and that was good in my opinion. I just wanted to revel in this moment, which was the first time in a long while Devin looked at me as lovingly as he did. I felt like he knew in this instant, despite what we were going through in our marriage, I was here for him always.
“Devin, honey, don't mind your father. He's just been in a tizzy since he got home from the church. Please come to the dinner table and join us.”
Devin led the way as I continued to hold on to him. He pulled out my chair, allowing me to sit before he settled next to me. His mother was on the other side of him. And strategically placed across from my husband was his ex-fiancée Georgiana Jacobs. I couldn't believe his parents had the audacity to invite her to this dinner, knowing the history she and my husband had with each other. I knew Mrs. Woods didn't like me, but this act of disregard further let me know this woman was dead set on ruining my marriage to her son.
“How are you, Monica?” his mother finally greeted.
Trying my best not to defiantly stare, I responded with, “I'm fine, thanks. And you?”
“I'm wonderful,” she answered, smiling sheepishly as her eyes bounced from me to Georgiana.
I knew this was only a show Devin's mom was putting on for the men and women who were also staff members at the church Devin's father preached at. And she wondered why I didn't like attending church? When the pastor and first lady made you feel like you were insignificant, then why would I want to go hear the Word from a family who were hypocrites in my eyes? No need to pretend you loved me in the Lord's house when you couldn't stand me outside of it.
“Hi, Devin,” Georgiana gushed. “It's good seeing you again.”
“It's good seeing you too,” he responded.
What in the hell did that mean?
It's good seeing you too
. Was he glad to see her sitting at this table across from him? I shot a disapproving gaze at my husband, but he never noticed. His eyes were affixed on his ex. I detected a small inkling of affection twinkling in his eyes for this woman, and I became furious. I knew this look all too well because it was the same steely gaze Devin gave me when he told me he loved me for the first time. Now he was gaping at this woman with the same admiration, and it ticked me off.
I wanted to get up from this table and leave them all to enjoy their dinner, but my pride wouldn't allow me to do so. That was too much like giving up, and I'd be damned if I gave them the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten to me. Plus, I wasn't going to make it easy for my husband to possibly be taken from me by a woman who lost her chance to be with him. She needed to know her position and stay thereâas his ex.
“Hi, Georgiana. I didn't expect to see you here. Are you part of the church committee now?” I asked.
This let his mother know I recognize the people here, and Georgiana was an extra distraction that didn't belong. They wanted to play games with me . . . then, game on!
Shifting her gaze to Mrs. Woods, Georgiana cleared her throat as she said, “Um, no. I'm not part of the committee.”
“Oh, I thought you were since everyone here is part of the board. Forgive me for assuming,” I said smiling coyly.
Devin reached under the table and gripped my leg gently, signaling for me to let this go. I gave him an icy glare before picking up my napkin and draping it in my lap. I hoped he understood my expression. Try me if you want to. I will turn this dinner out.
“Honey, please, fix your plate. You look like you need to eat. Is Monica feeding you?”
Shade thrown and I caught it. It was subtle, but nonetheless, it was still there.
“Mom, Monica cooks for me all the time.”
“Well, I can clearly see she's eating. Is she gaining the weight you are losing?”
This was her way of criticizing me and my weight without coming out her mouth and calling me fat. She was real good at dancing around things she didn't like, and right now, she was fox-trotting all around me.
“Mom,” Devin called out.
“Honey, I'm just worried about you is all.”
Shade thrown again. I pursed my lips as I looked at the various guests around the table who also understood the shade thrown but knew better than to say anything to the first lady.
“I'm fine, Mom. I'm eating very well,” Devin countered.
“If you say so. But you do look a few pounds lighter.”
Devin passed me the dishes after placing food onto his plate. I felt like all eyes were on me to see how much food I was going to put on my plate after the shade Isabelle threw. I didn't know why they were paying attention to me because a few of them weren't lean themselves. A couple of them were bigger than me. Unfortunately, Mrs. Woods was an elegant, tiny woman. I had to give it to her, for sixty years old, she was a beautiful woman. Her nutbrown skin was flawless. There wasn't a wrinkle in sight. Her hair was cut in a pixie style, making her look twenty years younger than she was. She was about five foot two and couldn't weigh any more than 110 pounds. She could stand to eat a bit more herself, but I guess the first lady needed to maintain her image of what she considered perfection.
Georgiana was a very pretty woman also. Her shape could easily be compared to that of Beyoncé. Her skin was a golden brown, eyes catlike, giving her an exotic appeal, and her hair was cut into an edgy layered bob which had pops of red making her more alluring. To say I was jealous was an understatement. As much as I didn't like her, I could see what my husband saw in Georgiana. I just hoped his feelings for her would remain in the past.
“Well, son, I was telling everyone about how excited I am about the church anniversary celebration we are having the Sunday after this one coming up. I can't believe it's been twenty-five years already.”
“We are so excited about it too,” Deacon Jackson stated.
“We all are,” his wife added.
“We have a choir coming all the way from New York to sing the Lord's praises that day,” Secretary Annabelle stated.
“And they are wonderful. They really know how to get people on their feet. It's sure to be a magnificent church service,” Devin's mother said.
“Son, I know you are going to enjoy yourself,” Mr. Woods stated.
Devin swallowed hard as his body became rigid. He placed his fork on his plate as he cleared his throat before saying, “I'm not sure I'm going to be able to make it.”
An awkward silence filled the room. Everyone's gazes shifted to his dad who picked up his napkin and dabbed at his mouth as he chewed the remainder of the food in his mouth.
Forehead creased, his father leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. Hands now in the steeple position, his stout voice broke the stillness as he asked, “What do you mean you are not going to be able to make it?”
My heart galloped for my husband. Mr. Woods wasn't my father, but he was definitely an intimidating individual.
Shifting nervously, Devin said, “I have to fly out to California on business.”
“Honey, you sure you can't reschedule? You know we would love to have you there. You are our only child, and this event is very important to us,” his mother chided.
“You see, Isabelle, this is what I'm talking about. This boy chooses work over God all the time, not realizing it's God who's blessing him.”
“Dad, that's not what I'm doing.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“Everson, not here in front of our company,” Mrs. Woods pleaded.
“They understand what I'm talking about,” he pointed to the guests, and most of the deacons nodded in agreement. “Your place is supposed to be with your family on that day. It's bad enough you hardly come to church any longer. You supposed to be there every Sunday. But now, one of the biggest events we have during the year and you have to go out of town on business? What is the congregation going to think? Half of them are forgetting I have a son at all.”
“Dad, I don't care what the congregation thinks,” Devin countered. “The congregation doesn't pay my bills. You do want me to use that college education you paid for to further my career, don't you?”
“If I knew paying for your college was going to cause you to choose career over family and church, then maybe I shouldn't have paid for it at all,” Mr. Woods deduced.
“Everson,” Mrs. Woods called.
“No, Mom. Dad is telling the truth. He paid for my college, hoping I would follow in his footsteps.”
Mr. Woods's jaw tightened as Devin continued.
“But I disappointed him. When I told him I wanted to be in the corporate industry, he was not happy about it. He should be happy I've made a name for myself and be proud of what I've accomplished. All he chooses to do is put me down because I didn't follow in his seminary footsteps.”
“A son is supposed to want to be like his father.”
“Who says I'm not?” Devin addressed his dad. “I'm successful just like you. I'm smart just like you. I'm talented just like you. But what, just because I'm not preaching just like you, that makes me a failure?”
“Honey, that's not what your father is saying,” Mrs. Woods said, trying to calm the conversation.
“Then what is he saying, Mom, huh?”
The room remained silent, and to my surprise and utter dismay, Georgiana began to speak.
“Mr. Woods, can I add something please?”
Devin's father nodded.
“Devin is right. I mean, look at what your son has accomplished. Just because he's not going to preach doesn't mean you have failed as his father. You and Mrs. Woods have done a marvelous job raising a wonderful, respectful young man. You have a lot to be proud of regarding Devin. And most of all, you have instilled God in him. Just because you don't see him every Sunday doesn't mean he's not praying and giving God the glory. And that's because of what you and Mrs. Woods instilled in him. Why do you think he is as successful as he is? It's God, and I know Devin knows where his blessings are coming from,” she said, looking at Devin lovingly.
Devin looked at her for a long moment before she turned her attention back to his dad.
“You work hard with the church because that's your calling. Devin works hard in business because that's what he wants to do. Both of you are successful in your own right. Who's to say that one day you two won't be working side by side? Yes, there's a possibility that day may never come, but if it does, and you two ever get together, you would be a force to be reckoned with,” Georgiana concluded.
“Amen,” Isabelle said, smiling from ear to ear and the guests around the table shouted amens as well.
I was speechless because I felt like, as Devin's wife, those should have been the words coming out of my mouth,
not
his ex-fiancée's.
I looked at Devin who was still staring at Georgiana like I wasn't even there.
“Mr. Woods, I hope I didn't overstep my bounds and disrespect you in any way because that was not my intention. But I know Devin wants to be there for you and Mrs. Woods. But please look at his accomplishments and know if it wasn't for you guys, he wouldn't be the great man he is today.”
Devin's father paused as he looked at his wife and said, “No, you didn't disrespect me at all. In fact, what you said made a lot of sense. I never looked at it like that before. I was so busy feeling bad about my son not wanting to be a preacher like me that I totally overlooked what he has accomplished.”
“Your son is a very successful man and that comes from the examples you have set for him. I'm pretty sure Devin can make other arrangements to be there for your church anniversary celebration because he has it like that. At the same time, you have to make him feel happy to be there. You know, as well as I do, pushing your son never works,” she chuckled. “He tends to run in the opposite direction.”