My Soul Cries Out (19 page)

I
decided not to warn Alaysia before Khalil got there. I knocked on her door and peeked in. “Alaysia, let's go out and get you some fresh air. You've been in the house for three days. Put some clothes on.”

She didn't even lift her head. “I don't feel like it.”

“I wasn't asking. Come on. You can't stay like this.”

“Please, Monica, leave me alone.”

“I am. Just like you left me alone when I was drowning in misery with Tom and Larry.”

The little chuckle she let out gave me hope that she wouldn't kill me for calling Khalil.

“Ten minutes. Wash your tail, brush your teeth and put some clothes on. We'll go for a walk.”

I was relieved she got up. If she did decide to talk to Khalil, she'd kill me if he showed up while she was wearing three days of funk.

She came out of her bedroom looking fresh, wearing a lavender sweater, some jeans, and a sad little smile. “I'm ready. Can we go get some hot chocolate?”

I laughed. “Now who's drowning their sorrows in chocolate?” Where was Khalil? He told me he was only fifteen minutes away.

She sat on the couch while I puttered around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. The doorbell rang.

“You expecting somebody?”

“Yeah. I'll get it.” I opened the door and Khalil stood there looking like a scared sixteen-year-old picking up his first date.

“I didn't tell her you were coming.”

He nodded. I led him into the living room.

Alaysia gasped when she saw him. “What are you doing here?” She turned to me. “Monica?” She ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.

“Have a seat, Khalil. We'll be out in a minute.” I walked to her bedroom and didn't bother to knock on her door.

She was pacing back and forth in the bedroom. “What did you do? Did you give him our address?”

“You need to talk to him, Alaysia.”

“I don't need to talk to him. Why did you do this? I can't believe you, Monica.” She sat down on the bed and glared at me.

I sat down next to her. “You need to talk to him. All that stuff you tell me about facing my issues? It's your turn.”

She shook her head. “I can't face him.”

“He's not mad at you. He wants to apologize to you and tell you how much he loves you.”

“Apologize to
me
?” She shook her head. “How do you know?”

“I talked to him.”

“When? How did—”

“Laysia, that's not important. Just talk to him. Trust me, okay?”

I took Alaysia by the hand and led her back into the living room to Khalil. He stood up and held his hands out to her. I put Alaysia's hands into his.
My
stomach fluttered at the love in his eyes when he looked down at her. He wiped the tears starting to flow down her cheeks. She finally looked up into his eyes, then really started crying. He pulled her into his chest and held her while she cried.

That was my cue to leave.

F
or the next few weeks, Alaysia and Khalil were completely inseparable. They went through the whole talking, crying, and forgiveness process and then were in love again, like they were never apart.

I felt like a third wheel. Watching them being lovey-dovey made me miss being in a relationship. A lot. I missed being held, being kissed, being cherished. Missed dreaming of a future together. The bed seemed much bigger and lonelier and colder at night. Made me think maybe a two-year wash-out period was too long. Especially with my eggs aging by the minute.

This made my business relationship with Alex Thompson even more difficult. I dragged Alaysia with me to the second meeting, but she looked bored for the first half, then made matchmaking hints the second half, so I knew I couldn't take her again. Which means I had to be alone with him. Palms sweating, face flushed, stuttering a little. He was too doggone fine. Some poor man was walking around double ugly 'cause Alex had enough good looks for two men.

 

 

My meeting alone with Alex wasn't so bad. It was the grilling from Alaysia when I got home that was the problem.

She pounced on me almost as soon as I walked in the door. “So, how was your meeting?”

I walked by her and plopped down onto the couch. “Good. We got a lot of ground covered.”

“And?” She plopped down next to me.

“And he thinks we have a great idea and a great plan. The most important thing is going to be location and marketing. He says—”

“You know good and well that's not what I'm talking about.”

“You asked me about the meeting, right?”

“Monnie!” She bounced on the edge of the couch.

“What? He flirted, I refocused. He flirted some more, I redirected. He flirted some more and then it was time to go.”

“Why are you giving him such a hard time? You should go out with him.”

“I told you—”

“I don't want to hear about your two-year Kevin wash-out period. Who decided that anyway? Sometimes you have to let things flow.”

“Just because you're floating on cloud nine doesn't mean I'm trying to fall in love.”

“I'm not saying fall in love. I'm just saying go out and have dinner with the man. All you do is sit around the house.”

I wanted to say I sat around the house all the time because she was always with Khalil, but that would sound adolescent. I walked into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of carrot juice. I handed one to Alaysia and sat back down on the couch.

“I don't know anything about him. I don't even know if he's a Christian.”

“So what? You'll only date him if he's a Christian?”

“Yeah. ‘Be ye not unequally yoked.' It's hard enough when two Christians try to make a relationship work. It makes things harder when one of the people isn't saved.”

“Who said anything about being yoked? I'm talkin' 'bout dinner. Anyway, me and Khalil are doing fine, and I'm not a Christian.”

Yeah, but it's only a matter of time. Between me and Khalil praying, you'll be saved in no time.
“You're different than the average. You're a spiritual person and you're seeking to know God. You guys have long spiritual discussions, and plus, you have a history together when you both weren't saved.”

She pointed an accusing finger in my face. “Don't think I don't know you and Khalil are scheming to make me into a Christian.”

I tried to look innocent. “What are you talking about?”

“Don't play dumb. You two probably pray for the Holy Spirit to catch me every day.”

“Catch you?” I laughed.

“Yeah. Don't think I don't know.”

“Is it working?”

She thought for a minute. “I must admit it's getting harder and harder to find a reason not to accept Christ or get saved or get born again or however you say it. I don't know. I never thought
I
would be a part of an organized religion. It's so . . . conformist.”

“You're not going to accept Christ because you'd be following the crowd?”

“No. It's just . . . it seems like with all Khalil tells me about this whole Kingdom thing, the church would be doing more than it does. Let him tell it, you guys are supposed to be taking over the world, changing the course of history, and making a difference in people's lives. I don't see that anywhere. Everybody I've ever known who ‘gets saved' just gets this churchy attitude and quotes a lot of scriptures, but everything else about them is the same. If your God is real, He should be able to make a bigger difference in people's lives and in the whole world.”

Being around Alaysia was a constant challenge to my Christianity.

“Anyway, you've distracted me again. You're good at that when it's something you don't want to talk about.”

“What?” I rearranged the books on the coffee table and pretended not to know what she was talking about.

“Alex. We were talking about you going out on a date with Mr. Gorgeous.”

“Alaysia, give it a rest. I'm not ready to date anybody.”

“I understand, Monnie. Too much man all at once, huh?”

“Girl, you know it. I would probably be too nervous to talk.”

“Nervous? Why?”

“'Cause he looks so good.”

“Why should the way his facial features are arranged make you nervous?”

“I don't know. Beautiful people make me nervous. They make me feel self-conscious about the way I look.”

Alaysia shook her head. “More fat girl drama, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Then you should go out with him to get over it. Not because you like him or you're interested in him, but so you can overcome another facet of the fat girl syndrome. You'll be conquering for fat girls everywhere.”

“Conquering?”

“Yeah, conquering your fears and this misconception that how a person looks is any indication of their worth. He'll probably bore you to death or do something to make you realize his looks don't mean a durn thing. I've had so many guys who look good who have absolutely no substance to them. Then I've had plenty of not so great-looking guys I really liked because they were so smart or so funny or so creative. It's not about looks.”

“Oh yeah? What about Khalil?”

Alaysia's face broke into a broad grin. “He's the best of all worlds. Sheer perfection.”

I shook my head. “You're hopeless.”

“Naw, girl, just deep in love.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, brother.”

“Don't hate. Come on, you should be happy for me. I feel like everything is coming together in my life for the first time. My body is healthy, I don't have any bad habits, we're starting a business, and my relationship with Khalil is ten times better than before.” She leaned back into the throw pillows and sighed. “Everything feels so good, I'm scared something bad is gonna happen.”

“Like what?”

Alaysia stared into space. “Like Khalil is going to die or something. Seems like the people I love either die or go away. Like I don't deserve to have any happiness.”

I rubbed her arm. “Don't say that, Laysia. Nothing is going to happen.”

“How do you know? I hate when people say things just because it's the right thing to say. You don't know.”

I knew with all the people she had lost, she had reason to feel the way she did. “I tell you what. We'll pray for God to protect and cover you and Khalil and that nothing will happen to you.

She sat up. “And you too. I don't want anything to happen to you either.”

“Okay, me too.”

“And pray for our business, too. I've never tried anything like this before, and I want it to work.”

“Okay, Alaysia. I'll pray. I will.”

“Promise me you'll pray every single day that nothing bad will happen. Every day, okay?” She looked like a scared little girl.

“I will. I promise.”

“How do you know whether it will work or not?”

“Huh?”

“How do you know whether the prayer will work?”

“I just know. There's a scripture in the Bible that says whenever I pray, God hears me and when He hears me, I have whatever I ask.”

“Then how come so many people have unanswered prayers? I know people who pray all the time for stuff and they don't get it.”

“Maybe what they prayed wasn't in God's will.”

“How do you know what's in God's will? If He only answers stuff that's in His will, it doesn't make any sense to pray anything else.”

“You know what? I'm gonna stop faking the funk. I'm a raggedy Christian. I don't read my Bible the way I should, and there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. I don't know how to answer most of the questions you ask me. You make me feel like my Christianity is just a habit I've always had, but I don't know all the stuff I should know about it.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know you didn't. It's my fault. I should know more about what I believe.”

“Maybe we can learn together. Khalil is a great teacher. He knows a lot about the Bible. Maybe we can all get together and study.”

“That sounds cool. Let me know when.”

She smiled. “I will.”

T
he idea sounded good, but we never made it happen. Alaysia continued to spend every waking moment with Khalil, and I spent every waking moment focusing on getting the business started and working out like a fiend. Alaysia kept telling me I was overdoing it, but I needed the physical outlet.

I was happy everything was coming together in her life, but I still felt this big, gaping hole in my soul. As much as I wanted to be happy being by myself, I still wanted someone to spend my time with. That whole revelation about being satisfied with my singleness was all fine and good, but it didn't keep a sista company on a Saturday night. I went out with some of my friends from the gym and that was cool, but when they had other plans, I was left out in the cold. It would have been nice to have a partner—a definite Saturday night guarantee.

One Saturday evening, Talinda and I decided to hang out. It was Valentine's Day and neither one of us had a date. She was trying vegetarian restaurants with me. We decided to go to Soul Vegetarian in Virginia Highlands. Talinda said she needed a taste of healthy soul food to keep her away from the chocolate. She made a real commitment to living healthy, and had lost eighteen pounds so far. I was a triumphant fifty-nine pounds lighter. Best part was, my new doctor had cut my blood pressure and diabetes meds in half.

Talinda finished off her barbeque seitan and greens, then sopped up the juice with some cornbread. “Girl, I think I'll be all right now. I needed a little fix.”

I looked at my watch. “Hey, wanna ride out to Stonecrest Mall? I need some new clothes. Feel like shopping? We can catch a movie afterward.”

“Naw, I want to wait 'til I lose more weight.”

“Why, girl? You've lost a lot. You should at least get a pair of new jeans. You look like a li'l thug with your pants hanging off you like that.”

Talinda laughed. “All right. Let's go.”

When we got to the mall, Talinda asked, “Do you mind if we go to Lane Bryant first? I'll pick out a pair of jeans real quick and then we'll go to your stores.”

“I shop in Lane Bryant.”

Talinda stared at me. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Monica, what size do you wear?”

“Last time I went shopping, I was in a 14/16. I haven't been in a couple of months.”

“Girl, you could probably get twelves. If I was your size, you wouldn't catch me in Lane Bryant. The minute I can squeeze these hips into a fourteen, I'll never cross their doorway again.”

I hadn't shopped in anything but a fat girl store since . . . since I could remember. I looked down at my hips. Could I fit into a size 12?

Talinda tugged on my arm. “Come on, girl. We're going to Limited Express. You're going to the skinny girl store today.”

I must have tried on every outfit in the store. I hadn't fit into a 12 since my wedding day, and that was only for a minute. After eating like a pig on the honeymoon, and then eating Kevin's gourmet cooking every day, I went back to my size 14/16.

After a while, the sales lady looked annoyed. Must have got tired of reshelving the clothes she knew I wasn't going to buy. I didn't care about her stank attitude. I was happy to be looking so good.

I refused to be ashamed when I finally did leave with four shopping bags full of clothes. It only took Talinda a minute to pick out a new pair of jeans in Lane Bryant. She had dropped into a size 22 and was very happy with herself. It was hard to believe I used to be her size. Then again, it was harder to believe I wasn't her size anymore.

As we were leaving, Talinda asked, “Hey, do you mind if we stop by the Christian bookstore real quick? There's a new gospel album I gotta get.”

When we got into the bookstore, she pointed at a poster on the wall. “There it is. Girl, that album is tearing up the charts. That choir is the bomb.”

I stopped frozen with my mouth open, staring at the picture she was pointing to.

Talinda laughed. “Yeah, girl. He is fine, ain't he? Don't be lusting after no man of God, though. You go to hell for that.”

I still didn't say anything.

“Monnie, what's wrong?”

I shook myself. “Nothing. That . . . that's my husband.”