Joy Comes in the Morning (7 page)

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Authors: Ashea S. Goldson

BOOK: Joy Comes in the Morning
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I looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of sadness, that same sadness I saw when I first met him. He looked like a wounded animal back then, the vulnerable widow. How I had longed to soothe his gentle spirit, even before he took an interest in me.
I looked into those brown eyes and decided to go for it. “You know, I think we make a good team.”
“Yes we do.”
“And I know you'll be a good husband.”
“I'll do my best.”
I was getting nowhere. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine.” Joshua returned his attention to me.
Feeling awkward, I quickly tried to fix the mood. “I mean, you have such vision.” Joshua didn't respond.
“I wish I had it all together like you,” I desperately grasped for words.
“Don't be ridiculous. You're very organized.” Joshua looked directly into my eyes.
“No, I'm not. Mr. Harding wants me to go back to school to be a public relations liaison, but I don't want that.”
“Okay, so what do you want?”
“I don't know, but I want to do something meaningful. I mean, something meaningful to me, that is.” Joshua smirked.
“Well?”
“I haven't figured it out yet, but I um . . .”
“You'll figure it out.”
“I know that I do better with a partner, you know, as part of a team. What about you?” I threw out the bait to see if he would take it. I wanted him to talk about his first marriage.
“What about me?”
“Do you do better when you're not operating solo? You know . . .” Joshua didn't answer. “My mom and dad were a great team, at least in their last few years together, you know, after my dad stopped roaming and came home. I can see that your parents are clearly a force to be reckoned with.”
“And?”
“Marriage can be good, I guess.” I secretly wondered if I were being too assertive, yet my fear wasn't enough to stop what I felt in my heart.
“Yes, I'm sure it can be, and ours will be. I won't allow it to be any other way.” Joshua turned away. “Look at the time. We'd better get going.” Joshua looked at his watch and started walking toward his car.
“The night is still young.” I didn't want the evening to end, but I had obviously ruined it.
“Not when we've got to get up early in the morning, and I've got a couple of hours of study to get in tonight also.” Joshua kept walking until he reached the location he had parked his car.
“I guess you're right.” I surrendered to the tension.
During the ride home, he was so quiet and detached that I felt like a stranger. Not the person that he had been dating for three months, the woman he had planned to marry. I hoped that I hadn't said or done anything to seriously offend him. I turned on the radio hoping that the gospel tunes would win over my own emotions, but it did not help. I prayed silently for strength. “Lord, please help me with this relationship.”
That night, instead of doing my normal scripture readings, I only read one verse and almost cried myself to sleep. “What is wrong with me, Lord?”
Finally, in an attempt to get answers, I reached over and dialed Joshua's number. The phone rang and rang, but he didn't answer.
Chapter Thirteen
It was another Wednesday night Bible Study at church with the bustling crowd, scents of various perfumes and colognes all mixed up together, the shaking of sweaty hands, and the hugging of sweaty necks. Daddy and Aunt Dorothy stood around the lobby telling their usual stories about the good old days.
Aunt Dorothy grabbed me and whispered in my ear. “I'm gonna host your engagement party at my house. I've got it all worked out, chile.”
“Thanks, Aunt Dorothy.” I smiled, afraid to ask the specifics of what her plans were, but I was grateful. Besides, I knew Sister Benning wouldn't like it, and that reason alone made it all worthwhile. Mrs. Margaret brought in her pans of peach cobbler and apple butter, recipes she'd grown up with in Alabama. The choir pranced about in their emerald green robes. The church mothers cackled, and the deacons groaned on the opposite sides of the church. There sitting near the pulpit was the invincible Pastor Martin. He was a stocky, middle aged man with a slightly receding hairline and a thick, gray mustache.
I sang three songs with the praise team, and that was enough to take my mind off my problems with Joshua. That was enough to transport my mind to another realm where nothing else mattered but God.
Sister Martin, wearing her typical dark colored skirt suit, led the congregation in prayer, covering everyone; the sick, the homeless, the unemployed, the hungry, and generally, every disadvantaged person from the United States to Africa and back again. Finally, Pastor Martin stood behind the pulpit and preached about faith with the conviction of ten men. I drank in every word and wished Taylor was there to hear it also.
When I looked in front of me, I saw Sister Winifred sitting in the front row with her crooked legs crossed and her thin gray hair pinned up in a bun. I looked behind me and found Sister Williams smiling. She was holding her new baby. He was a round faced baby boy wrapped in a light blue knitted blanket. She clung to him proudly. I could finally see the sense of satisfaction and relief in her eyes after years of trying to conceive. I saw that the baby had big brown eyes, but I couldn't look into them. There was that pinching feeling again. Reminders.
I just kept on listening and kept on praying. “Lord, why isn't this pain over?”
Finally, I tiptoed out of her row and down the carpeted aisle. When I turned the corner, I practically fell into the restroom, taking a deep breath as I closed the door behind me. As I leaned against one of the stalls, basking in the relief I thought had come, I heard gurgling noises coming from one of the stalls.
Suddenly, Michelle came out with a napkin over her mouth.
“Oh, I didn't know anyone was in here.” I wiped my eyes quickly to hide my own grief.
“Yes, I'm still not feeling very well.” She smiled nervously.
“This is a hideout for all of us women.” I smiled back and turned to the mirror, pretending to fix my hair.
From the mirror I could see that Michelle's eyes were a glossy red as if she had been crying. I couldn't take it anymore. I whirled around and grabbed the girl by the hand. “Come with me.” Michelle followed me out the back door into a lonely corner by the garbage bin.
“What's going on with you?” I asked her.
“Nothing. I don't know what you mean.” Michelle shook her head as if she had no idea what I was talking about.
“Let's be honest, Michelle. I saw you trying to purchase a home pregnancy kit the other day. You hid it behind your back, then threw it down like I'm blind, then you come in here today with fire engine red eyes and you're throwing up all over the place. Now I may be quite a few years older than you, but I'm nobody's fool.”
“Nobody is calling you a fool, Sister Alex, but—”
“I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me what's going on.” I held onto both of Michelle's arms and shook her gently.
“Nothing, really I—” Michelle started.
“Nothing? Okay, it's my mistake then. I'm sorry for pulling you out here.” I threw up my hands and turned to walk away.
“No, wait.” Michelle grabbed my shoulder strap.
“Yes?”
“You're right. I do need someone to talk to. My friends are no help, and he . . .” Her words trailed off.
“You can trust me. God has a way of bringing people together.”
“Oh, yeah? Where was God when I needed Him? Why wasn't he there to stop me from making such a bad mistake?”
“Sweetheart, God has been there all along, and He has been speaking to you through His Word. He says, ‘
My sheep hear my voice
.' But He gives us all freedom of choice even if we make the wrong choices.”
“I never thought I'd ruin my whole life, but I did. You're right.”
“I'm right?”
“I did buy a home pregnancy test, and I'm pregnant.” Michelle began to cry uncontrollably. “I'm pregnant, and I don't know what to do. I shouldn't have—”
“I know. I know, but that's all over now. All we're concerned with is you and the health of that baby you're carrying.” I pointed, inconspicuously, to Michelle's stomach.
“The health isn't going to matter,” Michelle said.
“Of course it does. Why wouldn't it matter?”
“Because I'm not going to carry it to term.” Michelle turned her back on me. “I can't.”
“What do you mean you can't? Even if you don't want to keep the baby, you can always put the baby up for adoption.”
“No, I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Do you see my mom out there directing the choir and my sister singing a solo? My brother is playing the drums, and my father is sitting next to Pastor Martin in the pulpit.” Michelle sighed. “You know this kind of disgrace would kill them.”
“No, it won't. It will hurt them, but they'll live through it, and so will you. But most importantly, this child will live through it.” I grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and shook her gently. “I can't.”
“What about the father? Is he willing to play an active role in the child's life?” I let go of Michelle.
“No, he doesn't want any part of it. He has his own plans. It was just a mistake.” Michelle looked down at the floor. “He is the son of a family friend, and I tried to help him through a tough time he was having, and one thing led to another. I should've never . . . I should've known better.”
“Don't worry about that now. Did you repent?”
“Repent?”
“Yes, for the fornication,” I said.
“Oh yeah, I have . . . over and over again.”
“Well, it only takes once. Then it's finished, forgotten in God's eyes. He is just to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” An involuntary tear rolled down my face, and I wiped it away with my hand. “You don't have to commit another sin.
“Another sin?”
“Yes. Abortion is murder.” I didn't dare breathe or blink. I couldn't believe I wasn't choking on my own hypocritical words. I just stared into Michelle's frightened eyes, hoping to make the kind of connection that could save two young lives.
“I never really thought about it like that. I mean, it's not like it's a real baby or anything . . . I mean, not at this stage anyway.”
“Oh, it's a real baby from the time God puts it in your womb, from conception. Remember, God calls the end from the beginning, so He sees what that baby will grow up to be. He or she actually already has a destiny, a purpose. You have a purpose.” I stood close to Michelle and stroked her hair.
“I never thought of that.” Michelle's eyes began to swell with tears.
“I know you didn't.”
For a few minutes there was just silence, the sound of broken hearts and remorse.
“I'll tell you what. You get yourself together so you can go back in before Pastor gives the benediction, and I'll meet with you later.” I took a piece of paper out of my purse and wrote my number on it. “I'll help you to tell your family if you want me to.”
“Oh please, would you?”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“That you won't do anything until you talk to me first. Promise me.” I held both the girl's sweaty palms.
“I promise.” Michelle wiped away the remaining tears with her sleeve.
“Good.” I gave her one last hug before I turned to go back inside.Before we knew it, the door opened wide. “What in the world are you two doing out here?”
Chapter Fourteen
As soon as I heard Sister Winifred's voice, I knew there would be trouble. She had a small garbage bag in her hand, which she dropped into the garbage bin.
I passed by her, followed by a shaky Michelle. “Excuse me, ma'am. We were just leaving.” I walked into the building through the lobby, into the sanctuary, then quickly down the aisle, thinking I'd die before I could get back to my seat. My breathing was sporadic. I felt Sister Winifred right on my heels. Nervous, I accidentally dropped my purse, and as I squatted down to pick it up, Sister Winifred stood right behind me. I looked up into her eyes, and she frowned up her already wrinkled face. I stood up and found my seat quickly.
Looking back at Michelle, I could see that she had returned to sit by her siblings, and was looking straight ahead as if she were in a trance. Her stress was obvious, and I wasn't sure how I would be able to help her, but I was sure that this wasn't about me. I turned around quickly and sat still in my seat, hoping Sister Winifred wouldn't question me, or worse yet, put the word out that Michelle and I were having a tearful conversation in the back of the church. Not that it was any of her business anyway, but that had never stopped her before. She was always creeping around the church, giving people a scripture on whatever it was she felt they had done wrong. Somebody needed to give her a scripture on gossiping.I didn't dare turn my head toward Sister Winifred. Instead, I fumbled around in my purse, indiscriminately flipped the pages of my Bible, and waited for the service to be over. I crossed my legs and focused on what Pastor Martin was saying from the pulpit. My heart was heavy and I needed all the Word I could get.
 
 
When the service was over, I gathered my things and waited in the lobby for Joshua to complete his deacon duties. Aunt Dorothy came over wearing a big blue feathered hat and matching blue dress. “Alex, will you still be working with us on the anniversary banquet later on in the week?”
“Sure, no problem.” Unfortunately, it was a problem. My schedule was getting fuller and fuller as the days went by. I hardly had any time for myself. There was always something to do for somebody. Yet I smiled at Aunt Dorothy and made a mental note to stay on the anniversary banquet committee.
Aunt Dorothy hugged me, and I caught one of her blue feathers right in my mouth. “I'll call you then, sweetie.”
“Yes ma'am.” Between the anniversary committee, The Elijah Project, and praise team rehearsals, along with the regular twice a week services, I'd be moving into the church soon if I weren't careful.A few seconds after Aunt Dorothy walked away, Yvonne came out carrying her Bible at her side. She wore a form fitting pink skirt suit. Her face was heavily painted with eyeliner, bright pink lipstick, and pink blush. She stood beside me and smiled. Then she reached into her purse and handed me an envelope. I took it from her, maintaining a puzzled look on my face. “Oh.”
“Would you please give this to Deacon Joshua for me?” Yvonne smiled.
I wasn't sure what she was up to, but I didn't like it. “Sure. I'll see that he gets it.”
“I'm volunteering to work alongside him and Brother Jacob in the homeless ministry. You know, for the Elijah Project?” Yvonne said.
“I see.” My throat became dry and scratchy, as if I were wading across the Sahara Desert. My flesh wanted to lash out, to question her motives, but I had no earthly reason to do so. I made my emotions submit to the Holy Spirit. Still, something inside me couldn't rest. Something had stolen my peace.

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