Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791) (21 page)

“It's our pleasure,” Mom answered. “We don't mind at all.”

“I sure appreciate it,” he said with a humble nod. “Now . . .” He stopped just long enough to clear his throat, then grabbed my hand, holding it in his own, and started again. “I know that my and Candis's relationship has had the most unusual start and has taken a path that has gained a lot of criticism and skepticism from a lot of people, and I'm sure you've had, and maybe still have, your own concerns. I want to assure you that I love Candis with every fiber of my being and have nothing but the absolute best intentions for her as an individual and for us as a couple. He paused momentarily and focused solely on my dad. “With that said, I'd like to ask your permission to marry your daughter.”

Daddy let silence hang in the air for a half a minute while he gave a pensive stare. With puckered lips, he stroked the hairs on his chin, nodding slowly.

“You've spoken well, young man,” Daddy finally began. “I do have my reservations, but I realize that my daughter is grown and she's always made smart decisions.”

That was only because he had no idea of my string of relationship failures. Married men, abusive men, no-good men, baby-daddy men . . . But what Daddy didn't know wasn't gonna kill him.

“I'm gonna trust her, and the good Lord above, that you are the man she believes you to be, but I'm gonna let you know man to man, if you hurt my daughter, you won't live to hurt another living soul.”

“I can understand and respect that, sir,” SeanMichael reverentially answered.

“And it's with that understanding that my wife and I give you permission to marry our daughter.”

A slow grin spread across SeanMichael's face. “Thank you, Mr. Turner. Thank you, Mrs. Turner. I am truly honored, blessed, and highly favored of God.” He then turned to me. “Candis, you are the woman I've prayed about and prayed for, and I would be even more honored . . .” He paused as he slid from the chair and to one knee, digging in his pocket and pulling out a black velvet box, which made me grab at my chest and gasp. “If you would have me as your husband by taking my hand in marriage.” He cracked the lid of the box to reveal a full-carat marquise-cut diamond set in white gold. It was the same one that I'd sent him a picture of that he said he couldn't afford. “Candis Lorraine Turner, will you marry me?”

From nowhere tears flooded my eyes. “Yes!” I exclaimed in a whisper.

SeanMichael took my left hand and twisted the ring he'd previously sent me off my finger, then replaced it with the new ring, which I just couldn't take my eyes off of. Somehow, I managed to stand up with wobbly knees, no longer caring about his stained shirt, his battered shoes, or his peasy head, and throw my arms around him.

“I love you, Candis,” he told me again. And I knew in the bottom of my heart and in the depth of my soul that he meant it.

And just wait until Dina and Celeste saw my new ring!

The day couldn't have gone more perfectly for Candis. While none of us could really speak to the kind of man SeanMichael truly was, we all saw how elated Candis was on her wedding day. We could only trust that Candis had sought God, received an answer, and had peace about taking his hand in marriage. Celeste and I were right there, supporting her, as she was given the royal treatment with hair, makeup, a fresh manicure and pedicure, and assisted into her gown. What a radiant and beautiful bride she made, and I couldn't have been happier for her. As I saw her come down the aisle to be joined with the man she loved, it did make me think of Bertrand and wish things had turned out better between us. But they hadn't.

 

 

Honestly, I envied her luck in finding true love and following her heart all the way to the altar, but my envy had its limitations. While every woman wanted to be in a stunning white gown and have everyone dote on her, especially the man she was committing her life to, I wasn't ready to marry Bertrand. No, I take that back. It wasn't that I wasn't ready. Bertrand was just not the right man for me. I'd never been one to support cohabitation, but living with him taught me the value of my own freedom and independence, and showed me just what kind of man Bertrand truly was. He indeed was all of the wonderful things that not just I, but other people, saw on the outside: he was nice, courteous, respectable, and a gentleman in many ways. However, underneath, he was controlling and didn't respect me as an adult. There had been many conversations between us where he'd in one way or another shown me that.

Celeste thought I was crazy, of course, not able to understand how I wouldn't just sit back and let a man take care of me. “Girl, I wish E would have gotten a job and said, ‘Baby, you ain't gotta work. I'ma take care of everything.' He wouldn't have had to tell me twice. I woulda quit my job so quick, it woulda make his head spin.”

That all sounded good, and Bertrand was willing to take care of me, but only to the degree that he wanted to. Only to the degree that he could control me. I had no say-so, voice, or opinion in things I felt couples should discuss and make decisions on. He would move only when he wanted to, and did only what he wanted, and when he wanted. And he never did agree to add that infidelity clause to that so-called prenuptial agreement he'd thrown in my face.

“How are you going to tell me what to do in my own house?” Bertrand had barked when I'd asked him a second time about throwing out his old stuff.

“It's disrespectful, Bertrand.”

“I had a past before you, but I'm with you now.”

“We all have a past, but still, don't you think the past needs to be cleaned up and done away with so we can start on a fresh and clean foundation? Instead of trying to build a marriage on layers of junk? I don't want to be finding somebody's old crusty panties and old love letters.”

He blew me off and didn't even acknowledge what I'd said. Even after I poured my heart out and told him how much it bothered me, he didn't budge. He didn't move. And to me that meant he didn't care. It was definitely in my best interest to end things. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I'd done the right thing in breaking our engagement and going my separate way. I could be nothing but extremely grateful that it didn't take me getting married first. While I didn't really believe that God had orchestrated a shacking situation for me, I was thankful that he had mercy on me through that time that I lived with Bertrand, and opened up my eyes to the things that I'd seen. Of course, Bertrand tried to convince me to stay and work things out, but I felt that his actions spoke louder than his words. His ego ruled his decision making, not what was logical or necessary for the betterment of our relationship.

Since Candis was going to be moving across the country with her new husband, she sublet her apartment to me, which spared me the probable failure of a credit check and forking over an application fee and a security deposit. She even paid up her rent two months out, which gave me a nice cushion for getting reset and reestablished on my own. I'd already transitioned my things from Bertrand's house, and not that surprisingly, he didn't put up any resistance to me calling things off and moving out.

“I still love you, Dina,” he'd said when I gave him his key back.

I guess at the end of the day his love just wasn't enough to sustain a proper husband and wife relationship. The Kobe Bryant–size diamond ring wasn't enough. I'd wished him the best, given it back, and walked away with a clean heart and a clear mind. I'd have my day one day, but today was Candis's day, and I was happy to be her maid of honor instead of her matron of honor.

On our cues, we walked down the aisle ahead of Candis. Then she had her glorious moment in the sun, escorted by Mr. Turner. The wedding was as beautiful as any wedding could have been, and with applause, we all celebrated the couple, introduced for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. SeanMichael Monroe.

Now that I'd gotten over some of my own hurts and failures, I could really celebrate with her, instead of feeling a sense of jealousy for what I wished I'd had. Since I'd had my heart attack, as soon as I was able to, I'd committed to an exercise program. Whether I felt like it or not, rain or shine, I put my tennis shoes on and began doing better by my body by walking. It was hard at first, but before I knew it, I was up to five miles a day and enjoying every step. During those walks, I spent a lot of time in prayer, just thanking God for His mercy and His grace. I'd come to realize that my life was a precious gift from Him, and I was no longer going to waste it, but would live it to the fullest.

Each day I asked Him to help me with my eating choices so that I could get better and get healthy, and Him being the gentle and loving Father that He is, He answered my prayers. Instead of gravitating to the foods I'd always loved, I found myself loving new foods, unprocessed and healthy foods, fruits and vegetables and whole grains. Sometimes I did crave fried chicken and ice cream, and sometimes I treated myself to them, but food was no longer my source of comfort. I no longer tried to eat my way to happiness.

I found happiness in the fact that I was no longer living my life in danger. My children were no longer being exposed to unnecessary drama and a negative example of what a man should be. I thanked God continuously for my daddy, who was an excellent example for my boys, and while I was sure they missed Equanto just because he was, and would always be, their father—for my youngest two boys—my daddy left nothing lacking outside of the title of biological father. My boys were happier, healthier, and were even performing better in school. They even looked better physically.

As part of my total body healing, I'd also started seeing a professional counselor to help me realize and understand why I'd made poor relationship choices. Dr. Bell gave me exercises and thinking points that helped me to focus on the woman I was inside and to see myself in a positive and beautiful light. I'd done a lot of growing and still had a lot of growing to do, but I knew now that I was worthy of love. True love. Not a counterfeit love that belittled and tore down, but one that edified, encouraged, and supported.

I had kept in contact with Keith and had kept things platonic between us. I appreciated the fact that he had never disrespected or tested the boundaries that were around my marriage, but had always provided a listening ear when I needed one. He was the first person that I'd shared my divorce filings with, and while he didn't cheer like he was at the Super Bowl, he was relieved that I'd moved on.

Somewhere in my heart, I had to thank Equanto for doing all that he did, because through it all, I'd become a stronger and better person for it, and it showed. I was even five dress sizes smaller, having lost fifty pounds, and was no longer ashamed of myself and my life. God had been really good to me, and it felt so good to be free.

Everything that I thought I wanted, I never really wanted those things. I wanted exactly what I had, a man who feared God, loved God, and loved me.

Today I married my friend, a man who loved me for me, regardless of my shortcomings, my flaws, my mistakes, and my mishaps. I knew everybody thought that I was crazy and I was being foolish, but what God had for me was for me. I guess there was such a thing as destiny and purpose, after all. The odds were against us, but the way I saw it, the odds were against every marriage. No marriage was going to be a sunshiny day every single day. There would be rain for sure, but knowing that God was on our side made every step of this journey worth it.

As SeanMichael held me in his arms and swayed me to Heatwave's “Always and Forever,” I fell in love with him all over again. I never wanted to let him go, and I never would. He whispered all kinds of loving things in my ear during our dance. I found myself in tears when he shared that he'd taken the money he'd been saving for a car, decided to forego his cell phone, and made other cuts, including doing without an earlier trip to Phoenix, to be able to get me the ring I wanted.

“I love you, Candis,” he whispered in my ear.

“I love you too, baby.” We kissed all over again in the middle of the floor, with our reception guests watching, until the DJ broke us up by speaking into the mic.

“All right, all right, wait for the honeymoon,” he teased, causing our guests to erupt in laughter.

While we reluctantly pulled away, Beyoncé's “Single Ladies” blared from the speakers.

“Okay, all you single ladies, it's time to come on out on the dance floor for the bouquet toss,” the DJ announced.

From all corners of the room, various women, some whom I knew, and some whom I didn't, gathered in a bunch, preparing to catch a specially made bouquet for this particular part of the celebration. In the traditional fashion, I turned my back, counted to three, and tossed the bouquet over my head and into the crowd.

Turning to face them, I saw that a young lady who had come with one of my male cousins was jumping up and down, full of giggles, with the prize bouquet in her hand. It took only a few minutes before she got back to her seat and screamed out again, having found a pair of one-carat diamond stud earrings nestled inside the bouquet.

End

Urban Books, LLC
78 East Industry Court
Deer Park, NY 11729

A Fool and Her Honey Copyright © 2013 Kimberly T. Matthews

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-6016-2382-9

 

 

 

Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Submit Wholesale Orders to:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
C/O Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Attention: Order Processing
405 Murray Hill Parkway
East Rutherford, NJ 07073-2316
Phone: 1-800-526-0275
Fax: 1-800-227-9604