Joy Comes in the Morning (10 page)

On the first day of June, when I left work, I decided to visit my sister down at the Push It Fitness Center, one of the best centers in Brooklyn, a state of the art facility with an indoor heated swimming pool, racquetball, basketball, and tennis court, along with a variety of steppers, stationery bikes, treadmills, and specialized weight lifting equipment. They were beautiful machines, and Taylor knew how to manipulate and maneuver each one. I admired her for her expertise and for the well toned body she eagerly displayed in her red spandex shorts set.

“So many surprise visitors today.” Taylor rolled her eyes. “No one uses phones anymore.”

I stood facing her directly. “I would have, but I just happened to be in the area. I figured we needed to talk.”

“There ain't nothing we need to talk about. Now do you want a workout or what?”

“Okay, fine. I'll work out then.” Despite the heated confrontations we'd had lately, I never held a grudge and neither did she, at least not with me, that is.

“Good. I'll put you over here now. Do fifteen minutes on this, then the stationery bike just to warm up. Then I'll be back to really get you started.”

Taylor set the timer on the treadmill and left me to fend for myself. This promised to be interesting. Not that I was an ugly slob or anything, but I had put on quite a few extra pounds over the last couple of years. She'd tried to warn me, but I'd never listen.

Taylor and I were never the slimmest people in the world, even from the beginning. As children we were thick bodied with thick medium length brown hair and big brown eyes. We were always a little shapelier than most; what people usually called “big boned,” but lately I just had a little too much meat on mine. She led me over to the weight lifting corner and started me off with three pound weights. She showed me a couple of simple exercises I could do to strengthen my arms and torso. If Taylor had any favorite place at all, it was the gym. Most people liked quiet and slowness to soothe them, but not her. She always said she liked the raw, jagged noises of the gym.

I had to admit there was something about the smell and the tingle of the sweat, the feel of my muscles contracting against the cold hard metal. Sometimes I'd get lost in the rhythm. I didn't like everything about working out, like my sister did, but it was getting better. I was determined to get in shape for my wedding.

I had a twin, who was supposed to be a mirror image of me, not a mockery of me. “I don't know if I ever told you this, but this place is pretty nice,” I said.

“Yeah, and it costs a lot to run too.” Taylor smirked.

“I'll bet.”

“Ms. Arlene said if I could come up with a decent down payment, she'd consider an offer from me. She says I'm the best, and she'd like me to take over when she retires.”

“That's great.”

Taylor snapped her fingers. “Just remember that I'm gonna own this center one day.”

“Well, God bless you.”

“Look at me.” Taylor twirled around in perfect form. “I'm already blessed.” After a moment of silence, she said, “I'm sorry about the banquet.”

“It's all right.” I turned my back to her so she wouldn't see the disappointment in my eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice.”

“With your stuffy future in-laws, Pastor and First Lady Bennings, hosting it, I doubt that, but anyway.”

“They're not so bad.” I tried my best to stay calm and not to get offended.

“You're right. They're not so bad.” Taylor laughed. “They're worse.”

I laughed too, because I was tired of fighting.

After I left the gym, I went to praise team rehearsal for an hour, and then drove to the neighborhood supermarket to pick up a few groceries. Eventually, I ended up in the kitchen making yet another meal. I was a good cook, not a fancy one or anything like that, but I could really work miracles with the basics.

I dipped the chicken into the already seasoned flour and dropped them carefully into the heated pan of oil. Fried chicken was one of Taylor's favorites. She was always nagging me about such greasy foods, but she wouldn't come near the kitchen to save her life. No, Taylor figured she was just too cute for that.

I, on the other hand, was the domesticated one, always hoping to hook a hungry husband one day. And now, I was finally engaged. I opened the oven door to check on my biscuits and wiped my flour covered hands down my apron. I knew my mom, who was a great cook herself, would have been so proud of me.

Taylor bounced into the room cheerfully. “What's up?”

“I'm glad you're here. You can help.” I handed Taylor a dish cloth.

“Sure, what can I do?”

“The dishes, maybe.”

“Dishes? Oh no, you know I don't do dishes.” Taylor put the dish cloth back on the sink.

“No cooking. No dishes. What do you do?”

“Let's see. I'm good at running things.” Taylor looked over at the pan of chicken. “Now that's not good for you.”

“Your criticism isn't good for me either, but that never stopped you before.” I smirked.

“Jokes, I've got no time for jokes. I've got to get ready for my hot date tonight.” Taylor winked as she strutted out of the kitchen.

That was Taylor, totally vain and self-absorbed, but I loved her anyway. Ever since we hit puberty, both Taylor's hormones and her self esteem seemed to blow up out of proportion. The only one she seemed to love more than herself was our mom. Mom was Taylor's idol back then; mine too, although I was more of a Daddy's girl myself.Taylor got ready for her date, but she didn't really look excited about it. She had been dating Derek for six whole weeks now, off and on, and that was a pretty good record for her. Taylor's relationships usually didn't linger on too long. I knew she didn't have the faintest idea how to hold a relationship together. Sometimes I wasn't too sure how to hold one together either. She always preferred to call her relationships mutual understandings, connected by a mutual attraction, as if it were some kind of voluntary meeting of adult minds. “Nothing serious; just having fun,” she'd say.

“Going out with Derek again?” I said, looking up from my book. “Yeah.”

“Interesting. It must be serious.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, you two have been an item for a while, haven't you?” I turned my chicken in the pan as I looked into my sister's face.

“You know me. I'm just kicking it until I get bored because boredom is never an option for a diva like me. Men are just a disposable means of entertainment. And just because I haven't kicked him to the curb yet, that doesn't mean he's putting a ring on my finger or nothing.” Taylor wiggled the manicured fingers on her left hand.

“I didn't say that.”

“I've got no plans to be locked down while some lame mate literally drains the life out of me.”

“Wow, I never knew your opinion of marriage was so negative.”

“I'm not against marriage for others. Just for me. I'm not going out like Mom did.” Taylor adjusted her skirt and stockings.

“Is that what you think, that Mom's marriage killed her?”

“You know it wasn't the happiest one.”

“But that doesn't mean she died unhappy.” I was sorry that my sister felt that way. I didn't want our mother's memory to be desecrated.

“I didn't say that.”

“But you meant it.”

“You don't know what I mean. I'm just saying I don't want to be drowning in my wedding dress with my trip down the aisle as my last happy day.”

“Mom was happy. She loved the Lord, and then in her later years, after she and Dad reconciled . . . well, I know she loved him too.”

“Maybe she did.”

“She did. Mom put Dad's infidelity behind her a long time ago, and she was happy before she died.”

“Come on now. Dad was not around for years. How do you know Mom was happy before she died?”

“Because I was there, and because Mom told us she was.” I put my cooking fork down and searched my sister's face, desperately trying to find common ground. “You know she was happy.”

“I don't know anything except she got sick, and they put her in the ground. That's all I know. Daddy comes back what . . . maybe a year and a half before she's gone, and everything is supposed to be all right. I'm having a hard time putting it all behind me. And I never want to be tied to any man.”

“It's your choice, but God made marriage a good thing.”

“Whatever. I promise to dance at your wedding then, okay?” Taylor sucked her teeth and walked out of the room.

I guess neither one of us believed in fairytale endings anymore. Saddened by the realization that both our ideas about life were tainted, I began to pray. “Lord, please intervene in our lives. Please save my sister, return her to you. Take away all the bitterness she feels. Wipe away the disillusionment, and let it not be a hindrance to the softening of her heart. Dear Lord, strengthen mine also so that I may face the future and once and for all, forget my past. In the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.”

Later that evening I started out to meet Joshua at his apartment. He was cooking dinner for me for the first time in our now four month relationship. I drove downtown alongside the other cars, buses, and taxi cabs until I pulled into the narrow street where the building's parking lot was located. I stepped out of my car, walked through the corridor, and into the cooperative apartment building attached to it. I dialed his apartment, and after he spoke to me on the intercom, he buzzed me in. I signed in at the security desk and took the elevator to the eighth floor.

I knocked, and he came to the door wearing a short sleeved silk shirt and black slacks. He gave me a quick kiss on the lips and invited me in.

“I'm glad you're doing the cooking tonight.”

“That's right.” Joshua held up his potholder covered hand. “Tonight your stomach is in my hands.”

“Be gentle,” I said.

“Most definitely.” Joshua smiled as he walked toward the kitchen.

I paused to check out my appearance in front of his mirror covered wall. I was stunning, despite the hips I wished I could master and a much too heavy chest. I did like my shapely legs in stilettos though, and examined them one at a time. Then I sat down on his burgundy leather sectional and looked around the room, admiring his taste in art. He had quite an extensive collection of paintings all around the room. There was a tall African sculpture in the corner. Then I stood up and went out onto the balcony where I could see the Brooklyn Bridge and all of the city lights. I couldn't wait until this beautiful apartment would really be mine, when Joshua would truly be mine. It seemed almost too good to be true. When I heard Joshua calling my name, I went back inside, and we enjoyed the simple spaghetti and salad dinner that he had prepared. “I never really thanked you for taking care of Lilah the other day. I was in a bind; thanks.” Joshua buttered his Italian bread.

“You don't have to thank me.” I took a sip of my fruit punch. “She's a beautiful girl.”

“You're going to make a beautiful stepmother.”

“I don't know about all that. Joshua I . . .” I wanted to tell him everything, about my past, about my fears, but my tongue wouldn't form the words.

“You don't have to say anything. You'll be all the mother Lilah will ever need.”

We ate until we were full and content.

“Thank you for this wonderful evening.” I fiddled with the small flower in my hair.

“Thank you for making it wonderful.” Joshua took my hand over the table.

“No, I mean everything was really nice. The meal, the candles, the conversation, everything.” I could hardly believe how perfect everything was.

“Well, I wanted this to be very special. You're always cooking for me. I wanted to return the favor.” Joshua started to clear the table. The candles continued to flicker.

“That in itself was a bold move. I appreciate it.” I stood up to help him.

“Oh, no. I've got it.” Joshua took the plate from my hand. “Tonight I'll handle everything.”

I excused myself and went to use the bathroom. When I returned, Joshua beckoned me over to the couch. He gave me a choice of movies we could watch, and I chose a romantic comedy. We laughed and cuddled, but the night was growing shorter.

“Wow, look at the time.” Joshua scrambled around the couch looking for the remote control. “I can't seem to find the remote.”

“I know that's the end of the world for you, being a man.”

“The comedy continues.” Joshua smiled as he walked over to the television to eject the disk from the DVD player.“That was a long movie.” I stood up to stretch my arms and legs. “Funny, but long.”

Joshua didn't answer. Suddenly I felt him walk up behind me. I felt his breath on my neck before he touched my shoulder. I thought I would sink to the floor if he squeezed any gentler. I turned around to face him as we stood barely inches apart, his lips hungrily found mine. I happily responded with needy kisses of my own. After a few minutes in his passionate embrace, I caught my breath and pulled myself out of his arms. For a moment, we studied each other's eyes.

“I'd better walk you downstairs, Sister Alex.”

“I think you're right, Brother Joshua.” I took a deep breath before I stood up.

“Alex . . . I . . .”

“Yes?”

“Never mind. Let's go.”

I gathered my purse and jacket, wondering what it was he really wanted to say. He held the door open for me, and then we entered the elevator. His eyes met mine, but no words were spoken, leaving much to the imagination.

Once we were in the lobby, Joshua gave me a quick kiss on the lips and escorted me to my car.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” Joshua said before closing my car door.

“Yes, you will.” I waved good-bye before I rolled up my window.

I watched him standing there staring at the car as I drove away. Tonight made me believe that he could actually be mine one day. That is until I looked into my rearview mirror, saw him answering his cell phone, and knew in my heart that it was Yvonne.