What a Sista Should Do (18 page)

I’m holding Taylor’s hand and Pam’s hand, and I feel wetness on my own face. Look at us. Three broken-down women. There’s nothing we
can
do but pray, is there? And believe the Lord is listening.

I had every intention of getting out of the church sanctuary immediately after Pastor Brown said, “Amen and amen,” but I couldn’t even make it out the pew. Folk that don’t ever speak to me have been greeting me and hugging me. Taylor gives me a big bear hug, despite all of the staring and whispers.

When my well-wishers finally thin out, I head for the church exit. My body is exhausted and my spirit is weary. I probably had no business coming out the house yet, but I needed to hear some Word.

Just as I’m about to get into my car, Pastor Brown waves at me from across the parking lot. I wave back and get ready to go, but then I see he’s got his hands up, motioning for me to wait. Although I’m not really in the mood for a conversation with Pastor Brown, I obediently stand outside my car door. I wish he’d hurry, because it is bitter cold out here. In some cities March marks the beginning of springlike weather. But not here. Cleveland doesn’t see warm temperatures until May. Finally, Pastor Brown ambles up to the door looking every bit of sixty. He has to grab hold to the side of my car while he catches his breath.

“Sister Hastings, it was good to look out in the congregation and see you this morning. How have you been holding up?”

“Honestly, Pastor, I haven’t been holding up well at all. That’s why I needed to come to church today. I actually feel like I’m going to pieces.”

“That’s all right, sister. You have the right to feel that way. Some people think that Holy Ghost-filled saints aren’t supposed to feel pain.”

“Or that they should pretend they don’t.”

“You hit the nail on the head, sis. But I’ll say one thing: You’re a bigger woman than most of the saved women I’ve known my whole life. You being able to forgive Sister Taylor is inspiring to me.”

“Pastor, I’m afraid that I cannot accept your compliment. It was nothing in my character that made me forgive Taylor. It was nothing but prayer and Holy Spirit. I haven’t given any thought to forgiving my crazy husband. Pray my strength, Pastor.”

“I see. Well, you know, forgiveness is a process. Only the Lord forgives us to the point where the sin is wiped out completely and not even remembered. As a matter of fact, for us, forgiving isn’t the worst part, it’s the forgetting. But we serve an awesome God.”

“Pastor, it’s kind of hard to forget about somebody hurting you when they leave a souvenir. Luke just keeps giving me stuff to help me remember his mess by. First a son and now scars on my body. I’m divorcing him, you know.”

Pastor Brown rubs his hands together from the cold. “No one would judge you for it, Sister Yvonne. You’ve sure got reason.”

“Thank you for understanding, Pastor. I thought you were going to tell me to reconcile with my husband.”

“That would be miraculous. He nearly killed you.”

I feel tears running down my face. “Pastor, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive Luke.”

“Now, sis, don’t get me wrong. As a Christian you are obligated to forgive Luke—and Taylor too. Christ freely forgave us all. But that doesn’t mean you’ve got to live with a dangerous man.”

“Yes, Pastor. That is so true.”

“Sister Hastings, I’m going to let you get on home. You need to get your rest.”

“Please keep me in prayer.”

“Always, sis.”

I suppose I should feel encouraged after that little pep talk from Pastor Brown. I mean, it sounds so easy coming out of someone else’s mouth. Of course, I already knew that I’m obligated to forgive, but having an obligation to do something doesn’t make it simple.

As a rule, I’ve always been quick to forgive people, especially my church family. It actually makes me feel noble to forgive someone for gossiping about me or for some other minor infraction. How come there’s nothing noble about forgiving a philandering husband? To forgive him, I have to make myself look like a fool.

Chapter 31

Pam

I
t was my idea to go out to lunch after worship service. Actually, we’re calling it lunch, but it’s close to dinnertime. I invited Yvonne to join us, but she declined. She seemed tired. It probably took all of her strength to come out of the house. I was happy to see her, though.

On Sunday I like to try out places that aren’t going to be overrun by greedy black folk. I hate to say it, but Sunday afternoons are probably the most dreaded times for restaurant owners, especially the all-you-can-eat buffets. I’ve witnessed the most disgusting displays of gluttony from churchgoers, who don’t have the good sense to be ashamed.

I can tell that Taylor has never been here before. La Mancha is a family-owned Italian restaurant with a marinara sauce to die for and desserts that’ll make you slap your mama. The atmosphere is very relaxed and child-friendly, which is important for me. Taylor seems to be embarrassed about her son’s antics, but nobody else seems to even notice.

“Taylor, leave him alone! If he wants to wiggle in his seat, let him. He isn’t hurting anybody.”

“Oh, that’s easy for you to say—your kids aren’t acting like Rosemary’s baby. Joshua, will you look at how nicely Gretchen and Cicely are sitting?”

Joshua completely ignores his mother’s question and reaches for the salt and pepper shakers. Taylor sighs and slumps back in her seat.

“Taylor, it’s okay. He’s just a little boy.”

“Some days I think Joshua is purposely being defiant. You know, Pam, it really makes a difference when a child has a father around. I think it has something to do with the bass in a man’s voice.”

“Girl, the fact of the matter is that his biological father is probably never going to be around like he should be. If you’re not up to the task, maybe you ought to introduce him to one of the brothers from the church . . . or Spencer?”

Taylor laughs. “Girl, I don’t think Spencer is going to be around.”

“What happened?”

“When Luke attacked Yvonne, I got spooked. I ran Spencer off with my craziness.”

I nod. “Well, don’t write him off yet.”

“You know, Pam, I don’t think that I’m quite ready for a man right now. I’ve been praying on this, and maybe it’s just God’s will for me to be single.”

“Maybe this is the time for you to get your life in order and prepare to be a wife.”

Taylor looks puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Get your career off the ground and take care of your debts. Make yourself an asset to a man, and not a liability.”

Taylor nods thoughtfully. “I guess I could use some work in the finance department.”

I smile. “You could also use a little work in the homemaker category. Not like I can judge you on that one.”

“What! I’m a good cook!”

“Let’s just say that your cleaning skills leave a bit to be desired.”

Taylor laughs. “Okay, Pam, you’re right. I have decided to rejoin the singles ministry. And this time I’m not going just to find a man.”

“That’s a start, I suppose.”

“Yeah. The singles ministry president has been calling me. I guess I can’t hide forever. But enough about my issues. Now it’s your turn, Pam. Spill it.”

“What are you talking about, girl?”

“Pam, you were laying up there on the altar like your mama, your child and your dog all died on the same day. You aren’t fooling anybody—especially me.”

“Things haven’t really changed between me and Troy,” I confess. “I’ve confronted him, and he denies being an alcoholic and the cheating.”

Taylor doesn’t respond immediately, but then speaks: “Pam, do you actually have proof of Troy cheating?”

“No,” I reply. “But it’s a gut feeling that I have.”

Taylor asks, “I’m not trying to be nosy, but have things changed for you guys in the bedroom? That would be a dead giveaway.”

“No. Actually, we’ve never had any problems in that area.”

“Well, then, maybe you’re jumping to conclusions on the infidelity.”

I want to believe her. “Maybe . . .”

Taylor asks tentatively, “Have you been praying?”

“Morning, noon and night. I’m getting tired of praying.”

“Believe me, Pam, I know how it feels to not get an answer from the Lord. When I start feeling like I don’t want to pray, I quote Luke 11:9 to myself: ‘Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’”

I nod in agreement. “I know that the Lord is faithful. I’m just impatient.”

“Is Troy still planning to go on tour?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to go in that delivery room by myself, like I’m a single mother or something.”

Taylor hangs her head a little, and I wish I could take those words back. I’m not thinking today. It must be the hormones.

“You’re right, Pam, it’s hard for an unmarried mother. Everybody in the hospital kind of looks down on you, assuming you’re promiscuous. But you don’t have to go through that. You are married. You can hold your head up. Plus, I’ll be your birthing coach if you want.”

“Thank you, Taylor. That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m not giving up on Troy yet.”

“You say he has a tour planned? Has he got any good acts?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t even know. I’ve never heard any of them perform. Troy’s always complaining about that too.”

Taylor is shocked. “You’ve never been to any of their shows? I wouldn’t feel comfortable having my man around all those money-hungry groupies.”

“I don’t feel comfortable, but I’m not about to lose my salvation worrying about whether or not Troy is going to cheat.”

Taylor laughs. “I hope what I’m about to say doesn’t offend you, Pam, but you aren’t about to lose your salvation going to one of your husband’s shows.”

“Girl, I am not trying to be all up in a nightclub. Especially those little hole-in-the-walls that Troy frequents.”

“Well, I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to show a little support. I mean, don’t you think you should help him? Isn’t that what a wife does?”

“I told Troy that if he comes to church, I’ll visit one of his little raunchy shows.”

Taylor touches my hand and says softly, “Girl, sometimes you have to make the first move. Isn’t there a scripture about wives winning their husbands’ souls?”

“Yes. It’s in First Peter 3:1: ‘Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives.’ Girl, I’ve been praying for Troy to get saved for years. I don’t know what else to do but pray.”

“Go to him, like Jesus went to the sinners. He met them where they were. I am not trying to be all preachy, but you might be the only Jesus he ever sees.” Taylor’s tone is more insistent.

Here comes the waiter with our food, and not a moment too soon. I’m sorry, but Taylor really cannot offer me any advice in this area. What does she know about what to do with a husband? Troy knows that he needs Jesus. He can’t say that he doesn’t, because I’ve told him a million times. I’ve done my part, now I’m just going to pray.

Chapter 32

Taylor

T
he things that Spencer said to me really hurt. Okay, it felt like he ran a hot knife through my chest. But as hurtful as it was, most of what he said was at least partially true. I do have issues, and they didn’t start with Luke. If I had addressed some things earlier in my Christian walk, I probably would’ve never hooked up with Luke in the first place.

So even though, in my heart, I’d promised myself to never set foot in another singles ministry meeting, I’m on my way to the church for that very thing. I don’t know what to expect. They’ll either embrace me or shun me.

When I walk into the meeting, everyone stops eating their finger food and looks in my direction.

“Hey! Praise the Lord, everybody!” I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts.

A few people smile back, a couple frown, but most everyone looks like they don’t know how to feel about me being here.

Sister Diane, the president, says, “Well, praise God, Sister Taylor. It is good to see your face in the place.”

I hurry and get my little food so that I can go and fade off into the background somewhere. Usually, the singles’ meetings are nothing more than fund-raising drives, but this evening there is a guest speaker.

Minister Jerome Graham is a noted singles’ counselor. He travels the country speaking at seminars and retreats. He is a widower that raised two daughters on his own. He’s here to talk about being saved and single. He’s probably talking to the wrong group, because with the exception of one or two, everyone in this room wants to be married.

After a short prayer, Minister Graham starts. “So . . . let me see a showing of hands. How many of you want to get married?”

Hands shoot up around the room, and Minister Graham smiles. I suppose he was expecting this response.

“Okay. Those of you who raised your hands, give yourself two minutes and think of all the reasons why you want to be married.”

For me, the first and foremost reason why I want a husband is so that my son will not grow up without a father. Then, of course, I want companionship. Plus, I can’t stand those holidays where it’s imperative to have a date, like Valentine’s Day, Sweetest Day, and New Year’s Eve. I want someone that I know will always have my back and be there with me in the tough times. Lastly, I want a big pretty Cinderella wedding. Is twenty-six too old to still be fantasizing about that?

“All right,” says Minister Graham, “your two minutes are up. I first want you to subtract ten points from your score if any of your reasons had anything to do with having a big wedding.”

Someone from the back shouts, “But we don’t have any points yet.”

“Then you’re already in the hole,” Minister Graham replies.

A ripple of laughter goes through the room.

“But seriously, saints, before we discuss our reasons for wanting to be married, let’s go to the Word of God. Everyone please turn to First Corinthians 7:32-34. Say, ‘Amen,’ when you find it.”

After much page rustling there is a collective “Amen” from the room.