Been There Prayed That (9781622860845) (3 page)

“It feels so good to be out of that hospital,” Bethany said as she sat at the kitchen table with Mother Doreen, her fourteen-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Sadie, and her son, Hudson, who was going on seventeen.

“Child, I know it does. Seems like you been in and out of the hospital for the past two years now,” Mother Doreen said before eating a forkful of meatloaf.

“Yes it has, and Lord knows I missed a good home cooked meal.” Bethany closed her eyes and let a mouthful of buttered mashed potatoes slither down her throat. “I know y'all's Auntie Doreen got y'all spoiled rotten with all of her cooking,” Bethany said to her two children, who confirmed such with head nods. “Well, don't think for one minute I'm gonna be throwing down like this. It's back to the basics. Won't be none of this meatloaf, fresh cut greens with onion and tomatoes, and mashed potatoes.” Bethany shook her head as she took in a bite of greens. “Frozen dinners, beanie weenies, here we come!”

Everyone chuckled.

“Now don't you think for a minute I'm going to let you back in the kitchen as long as I'm here,” Mother Doreen stated, pointing her fork at her sister. “Besides, you ain't altogether well, just too well to be laid up in somebody's hospital. And our goal is for you to get even better, and that's not going to happen eating stuff like frozen dinners with all that sodium. No sir; we gon' keep your diabetes under control, and part of doing that is changing your eating habits and diet.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Bethany teased Mother Doreen the same way she used to when they were young girls.

“Watch it now,” Mother Doreen warned. “I can still mop the floor with you the same way I did when we were girls.”

The two women giggled.

“Old lady,” Bethany teased, “you ain't gon' do nothing.”

“Old? Don't go calling me old. It ain't my fault Mama and Daddy waited until I was twenty-three years old to have you,” Mother Doreen replied. “The oops baby.”

“They wanted to save the best for last,” Bethany gloated.

“Oooh, Mom—and you talk about Hudson and me bickering,” Sadie said, playfully shaking her head.

“I'm sayin',” Hudson agreed, finishing up his food, chomping on the last bite of meatloaf.

Both Mother Doreen and Bethany looked at Hudson like he was speaking a foreign language. “I'm sayin'?” the two sisters said in unison.

He looked back and forth from one sister to the other. “I mean, uh, I mean, uh . . .” his words trailed off after not being able to find the right words to express his sentiment. His mother had told him a million times about not speaking proper English in full sentences. “May I be excused?”

“Um, hmmm.” Bethany rolled her eyes at him.

“Me too,” Sadie said as she stood up.

“Don't forget we got that apple cheesecake for dessert,” Mother Doreen reminded the teens as they put their dishes in the dishwasher.

“We won't,” they said.

“Especially me.” Hudson kissed his aunt on the cheek. He then turned and kissed his mother as well. “Welcome home, Ma.”

“Thanks, son.” Bethany smiled as her kids exited the kitchen.

Mother Doreen finished her last few bites, and then began to clear the kitchen table.

“Oh, let me help you.” Bethany stood up.

“You'll do no such a thing. Remember, I'm here to help, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Now sit down, and talk to me while I finish up.”

“Talk about what?” Bethany asked as she sat back down.

“I don't know.” Mother Doreen shrugged. “How about we talk about that husband of yours? How are things between you two?”

Now Bethany shrugged. “I don't know. Same ol' same ol' I guess. I mean, we've been married for ten years, so there's nothing new to speak on.” Bethany and her husband had lived together for seven years and had already had both of their children by the time they decided to get married. “You know the drill, Uriah's been on the road. I've been in the hospital. When ever we both are at home, seems like we're still never home. I'm doing church business, he's catching up with his mama and sister, who as you know, live seventy-five miles east of us. We're like passing ships in the night.”

“That doesn't surprise me none,” Mother Doreen stated. “I mean, what man wants to come home and stay home when all he's got waiting on him is frozen dinners and beanie weenies?” Mother Doreen couldn't hold back her laughter.

“You so bad.” Bethany balled up her napkin and threw it at her sister.

“But I'm telling the truth. Child, you got to do better than that. He's probably running over to his mama's house to get some real food.”

“We do have real food here . . . on occasion. The sisters at church will sometimes take turns fixing meals for us, and Pastor Frey will bring it over on his visits.”

Before Mother Doreen could reply, the doorbell rang.

“I got it,” Bethany said, stopping Mother Doreen in her tracks as she started toward the door. “I ain't altogether helpless you know.”

Mother Doreen picked up the napkin that had been thrown at her and threw it at Bethany's back. The two shared a giggle before Bethany made her way to the door, looked out the peephole, and opened it.

“Speak of the devil,” Bethany said as she opened the door.

Mother Doreen looked over her shoulder to see Pastor Frey entering the house, and mumbled to herself, “And the devil appears.”

Bethany was right; Mother Doreen's entire demeanor did seem to change whenever that man came around. Mother Doreen tried to convince herself that it was something about Pastor Frey that just outright vexed her spirit. But that wasn't the case. Now, with him showing up on her sister's doorstep at seven o'clock in the evening, it wasn't him Mother Doreen had issues with. It was his intentions. And so help her God, she was going to find out exactly what they were.

“Is everything okay?” Tamarra asked Maeyl as the two ate lunch at Family Café.

It was the usual busy Wednesday evening crowd. Maeyl appeared to be distracted, barely touching his meal that had been sitting in front of him for at least twenty minutes. Certainly it was cold by now.

“Hello . . . Earth to Maeyl,” she said when Maeyl didn't respond to her query.

“Oh, pardon me. Did you say something?” Maeyl asked, snapping out of his daze.

“Yes, I did.” Tamarra dropped her fork in frustration.

She was fed up with Maeyl's lack of attention toward her these past few days, ever since Easter Sunday to be precise. Once the most attentive man she'd ever known, Maeyl's daily phone calls to check up on her had been shortened. It was as if he really didn't have time to talk to her, if he bothered even calling her at all. Today was the first time they'd seen each other since Sunday, which was unusual. Normally the two would have met up a couple of times by now, even if it were just for a cup of coffee or a stroll in the park.

Even on Sunday after church, the two of them were supposed to meet Paige and Blake at the Golden Coral Buffet. Once upon a time, that was Tamarra and Paige's meeting spot after church, but that was before men came into their lives. Paige normally would have had Easter dinner with her parents, but they were going out of town to have dinner with her father's brother's family. Running her own catering business, Tamarra cooked for a living, so the last thing she wanted to do was whip up a feast. The Golden Coral had a special menu just for Easter, and Tamarra had planned on partaking in it with Maeyl. Instead, it was just her, Paige, and Blake, as well as a few other New Day members who'd decided against cooking as well.

Before leaving church, Maeyl had informed Tamarra that he'd suddenly come down with stomach discomfort and didn't want to go out to eat. He voiced his concerns about being afraid that he was coming down with a stomach virus or something.

He'd been just fine the earlier part of Sunday; that was until that mystery woman and child turned up. Tamarra didn't want to jump to conclusions, but she sensed something other than a stomach virus kept Maeyl from keeping their date. If her senses were on point, she guessed it had something to do with that woman and little girl.

For a moment, Tamarra thought that maybe the woman was Maeyl's long, lost sister that he hadn't told her about. It could happen. After all, she had a brother that she'd never bothered telling him about, for reasons of which she felt justified. Her own blood brother had raped her. After doing something so despicable to her, he was dead as far as she was concerned. In her mind, she didn't have a brother, and as far as everyone else in Malvonia was concerned, she didn't have a brother. That was one of the reasons why she'd moved from Cleveland, Ohio to the small town of Malvonia; to have a better chance at living a lie without anyone knowing. And it helped to have a new last name. She'd kept Davis as her last name even after her divorce.

Maeyl's reaction in church on Sunday had been nagging at Tamarra all week long. By now she thought she would have been able to pick Maeyl's brain in order to find out what was going on, fishing for some type of clue. Unfortunately, he hadn't given her any opportunity, being short in conversation or not even having a conversation at all. Even now, at their pre-Bible Study dinner, she thought it would have been her golden opportunity to get to the bottom of things. But he was too distracted to even hold a conversation, let alone give her straight answers. But she thought she'd give it a try anyway.

“As a matter of fact, I've been saying something for the last few days, but you probably haven't heard a word I've said,” Tamarra continued, losing her appetite and pushing her plate away with half her meal remaining on it.

Maeyl sighed and dropped his fork. He, too, then pushed his plate away. “I'm sorry, Tamarra, you're right. I have been a little out of it these past few days. It's just that I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Now Tamarra was getting anxious as she shifted in her seat and leaned forward as if Maeyl was about to share top secret government information with her.

Maeyl was silent as he looked into the eyes of the woman he'd fallen in love with, the woman he'd been through so much with in so little time. The woman who had to ask him to forgive her over and over again for the many mistakes she'd made in the process of their forming a relationship. Now that they'd made it through the fire, there was a chance that, once again, their relationship would be threatened. But this time, it would be Tamarra on the forgiving end, hopefully, otherwise, there was a chance that somebody might get burned.

Maeyl hesitated before replying to Tamarra. He was debating whether or not to move forward with the conversation he knew he needed to have before it was too late. Deciding that there was no time like the present to share exactly what had been bothering him for these past few days, he began to speak.

“Tamarra, honey, there's something—”

“Was the food all right? This is a first for the Family Café, for folks not to finish their meals.”

Tamarra and Maeyl looked up to see their waitress, Zelda, standing over them. Tamarra shot her a look of irritation. She felt that Maeyl was just about to spill the beans without her even having to pick his brain, and now Zelda's bad timing could have possibly ruined it.

Maeyl, on the other hand, let out a deep sigh of relief and gave Zelda a look of thanks for coming to his rescue.
Guess it wasn't God's perfect timing,
he thought.

“Oh, no, Sister Zelda, the food is just fine, as always.” Maeyl smiled. Even though Zelda no longer attended New Day, or any other church for that matter, Maeyl was still in the habit of calling her Sister Zelda. As far as he was concerned, she didn't have to be a church member to be his sister in Christ
. “We're all God's children,”
is what he'd been taught since his childhood Sunday School days.

“All right, then,” Zelda said, not sounding too convinced. “But I've seen birds outside the window eat more food than the two of you put together.” She placed their bill on the table, and then lifted their plates. “I'll put them in some togo boxes for y'all.” She then walked off.

“Thanks, Zelda,” Maeyl called out to her as she headed in the kitchen. He then turned to Tamarra who had a sour look on her face. “What?” he shrugged.

“What?” she repeated. “Getting you to talk has been like pulling hen's teeth, but now all of a sudden you can't stop talking to Zelda, that's what.”

Maeyl chuckled while reaching across the table to pat Tamarra's hand. “Now, Tammy, don't tell me you're jealous.” He knew darn well Tamarra wasn't jealous. He knew exactly what she was getting at. He just didn't want to get caught up in her trying to get him to go there.

“I asked you not to call me that!” Tamarra snapped, raising her voice, causing a couple of customers to turn their heads to look. Brushing off her embarrassment, she said to Maeyl. “I'm sorry. It's just that my name is Tamarra.”

Maeyl put up his hands in defense. “My apologies. I'm sorry. I know you've told me before not to call you that. I slipped.”

Calming down, Tamarra replied, “That's okay.” She loo-ked up at the clock that was hanging on the restaurant wall. “We better get going. Bible Study will be starting soon, and you know Pastor makes the last person who walks into the classroom give the opening prayer,” Tamarra reminded Maeyl as she gathered her purse and wrap. The April weather didn't require a jacket or heavy coat.

Maeyl pulled out his wallet and paid the bill, adding a few extra dollars for the tip. He then stood up and assisted Tamarra with putting her wrap on.

“You all set?” Maeyl asked Tamarra, who replied with a nod. “Good, then let's go.”

They each headed for the exit door so that they could make their way to their own individual cars. They'd met up at the restaurant like they did almost every Wednesday before Bible Study. Driving separate cars was suggested in one of the Single's Ministry meetings that both Maeyl and Tamarra now attended. Two single people who were simply dating should drive separately and meet out whenever possible; that was the suggestion. Avoiding the cliché “too close for comfort” was a means of avoiding the lust demon, which could ultimately keep the couple out of a compromising position, literally.

“Don't forget your food,” Zelda called out right before the couple exited the restaurant.

“Oh, thank you.” Maeyl took both boxes and handed Tamarra hers. “I almost forgot all about this.”

“I'm sure you did,” Tamarra said before all but snatching her box of food from Maeyl's hands, wondering how long she'd have to wait before she could finally get Maeyl to talk to her one on one. But little did she know, it wouldn't be soon enough.