Been There Prayed That (9781622860845) (8 page)

Lorain was dumbfounded.
So Unique really had left her money at home after all.
Unique hadn't been trying to play her for a fool; she just wanted to feed her children. Dread fell over Lorain. She felt as though God had turned His face from her in grief, disappointed at the actions of His daughter. Thinking God would be even more disappointed in her if she took the money, Lorain opened her door and stepped outside the car. “That's okay,” Lorain called to Unique. “You keep it. I'm sure you need it more than me.”

Unique paused just as she'd made it to the door. She turned around and shot Lorain a look of death. “And just what's that supposed to mean? You think 'cause you got a little transportation and a little piece of house that you better than me? That you got it going on?” Unique shook her head. “Please. I bet you grew up right around the corner from me.” Unique looked Lorain up and down. “Keep the ten spot. 'Spite popular opinion, you need it more than me. Go buy yourself some character.”

Lorain didn't even try to come up with a comeback as Unique entered her house and slammed the door behind her. Once again, she'd prayed to be the bigger person when it came to her and Unique, but once again, she'd failed miserably.

“I'm sorry, God,” she said as she got back into her car and proceeded to drive home. She put the ten dollar bill in her glove compartment, vowing to give it back to Unique. “It's obvious I can't do this without you, God. I can't just see Unique how you see her and love her with the love of Christ.” Lorain continued to pray as she drove, asking God to touch Unique so that she didn't come off so strong and raw toward Lorain and people in general. She asked God to season Unique's tongue so that she wasn't so vocal, saying whatever she wanted, however she wanted, and whenever she pleased—all the things that just got under Lorain's skin and took her out of character. She prayed to God to make Unique more settled and easier to deal with.

Just as Lorain ended her prayer, she noticed her car acting like it wanted to cut off. “What the—?” Lorain asked herself as she pumped the gas pedal, trying to keep the car moving. She looked down at her dashboard only to see her gas light on. She thumped herself on the forehead, remembering that the gas light had come on during her drive home from work last evening. She'd meant to go get gas before picking up Unique, but it had obviously slipped her mind. There was no way she was going to be able to make it back home without stopping to get gas first.

Spotting a Speedway, Lorain pulled up at the pump. Her car seemed to take its last breath just as she parked. “Thank you, Lord!” she shouted, and then went to get her credit card so that she could pay at the pump.

“Dang it—” Lorain fussed. “Where's my—” Fidget. “I know I didn't—” Fidget. “Left my dang on—” Fidget. “Purse.” Lorain sighed in defeat after an endless search for her purse. Figuring she was simply going to drop Unique off, she hadn't even carried it with her. “I cannot believe this. And I don't have my cell phone either to even call anybody.” She looked up. “Lord, help me.”

Lorain let out a deep breath. “Fooling around with that dang on Unique, now I'm . . .” Lorain's words trailed off as she remembered the ten dollar bill Unique had just given her. She opened her glove box and the money seemed to be staring at her like the money on the Geico commercials.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Lorain picked up the ten dollar bill and headed inside the gas station. “I guess you were right, Unique,” she mumbled under her breath, “I did need this more than you.”

For the past week, Tamarra had been walking around in a zombie like state. She felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't seem to get rid of. Perhaps she'd caught whatever it was that Maeyl had caught. There was no perhaps about it; she knew she had that sickening virus called
The Past
.

How could this have happened? She'd buried her past so deep and for so many years. How was it that her mother was able to dig it up just like that, in a matter of minutes, and throw it at her feet? And just when the two of them were finally starting to form a better relationship? Why in the world would she go and do something like that? She had to have known how Tamarra would have felt about it.

Tamarra couldn't help but think this had all been set up, that her mother never really wanted to have a true mother-daughter relationship with her in the first place. She was sure her mother had only been setting the stage for that very moment, the moment she'd resurrect a part of Tamarra that had been dead and buried. How could she possibly trust her mother now, after the stunt she'd pulled?

On several occasions, Tamarra had had to catch herself from saying how she hated her mother for what she'd done. She'd already forgiven her once. How many more times would she have to forgive her? Even though Tamarra knew the biblical answer to that question, she just wished God would stop testing her with the forgiveness issue already. Hadn't she at least scored a C on the test when she forgave her mother and father for covering up her rape? So what if the rapist was their son? They should have protected her is how she felt.

Her rapist, her brother, was dead as far as she was concerned. She'd killed him a long time ago. She'd killed him in her mind, in her thoughts. Every fiber of her being accepted the fact that he was dead and that she was now Mr. and Mrs. Evans's only daughter. Their only child. Her brother being locked away in jail for the past several years for the rape of another child made it that much easier for Tamarra to believe that he was dead. But no. Like Lazarus being raised from the dead, her mother had performed some miracle, or should she say some voodoo witchcraft, and raised her brother back from the dead.

When she'd heard her brother, Raymond's, voice blare through the phone, Tamarra thought she'd faint. “Tammy,” he'd said. He was the only person in the world who ever called her Tammy.
“Come on, Tammy, it won't hurt. Don't tell Mom and Dad, Tammy. You promise, Tammy?”

Tamarra hadn't allowed anyone else to call her by that name. That was his nickname for her. His sick nickname whenever he was on top of her. His sick nickname whenever he was threatening her not to tell Mom or Dad. His sick nickname when he was adding sugar on top by offering her candy treats not to tell.

She'd buried the name Tammy when she'd buried her brother. And even though it had been over twenty something years since she'd heard Raymond's voice, now at thirty-seven years of age, she'd still never forget it.

When her phone had fallen from her ear upon hearing the sound of her brother's voice through the phone receiver, it had shattered into pieces. Ironically, the pan of macaroni and cheese had landed flat, without a spill. Tamarra took that as God's sign that Raymond was one demon she didn't have to face, or at least talk to. Even more so, she took it as a sign that Raymond was one person that God didn't expect her to forgive.

Even upon the phone shattering into pieces, she'd heard the ringing of the other phones in her house. She knew it was her mother calling back, but she had a catering affair to get to. She couldn't waste precious time running through the house trying to locate a phone. God wouldn't want her to be late due to her chatting it up on the phone with her mother and her—

Ring! Ring!

The sudden ringing of the phone jolted Tamarra from her thoughts. She'd been letting both her home phone and cell phone go to voice mail all week. She'd wait a few minutes after the ringing, then pick up her phone to check for messages. If it was Paige or someone from church, she'd call them back immediately. She knew better than to go MIA up at New Day. Them saints would do a drive by to come see about her in a heartbeat. So versus having to literally face anyone, she'd rather put on a happy face over the phone. Certainly that would keep them at bay, for a little while anyway.

She lay on the couch staring at the ringing living room phone, wondering if it were her mother calling again. Mrs. Evans had left her a couple of messages, which were the only ones she hadn't returned.

“Baby, it's Mom,”
her first message had said.
“I know you were probably a bit caught off guard. I'm sorry. But please call me back. Your brother and I need to talk to you.”

Her second and last message had said,
“Tamarra, it's Mom again. I figured I'd give you a couple of days to gather your thoughts and return my call. It's now day three, and I still haven't heard from you. Please call me, honey. I know things between us were just starting to get back on track. I'd never forgive myself if I've ruined any chances of a full reconciliation. But please, Tamarra. Call me back. Your brother—”

The time allotted for callers to leave a message had run short, cutting off her mother before she could finish speaking. Tamarra was glad of that considering she was about to bring up her brother again. Her brother. It was amazing how Tamarra had lied so much about being an only child over the years that she'd convinced herself of it. No one from her adulthood knew about Raymond, not Maeyl, not Paige, not even Pastor. That's the way she wanted to keep it too.

After several more rings the caller was sent to voice mail. Tamarra got up from the couch and walked over to the phone. Without checking voice mail, she looked at the caller ID first. Her stomach knotted when she saw her mother's phone number on the caller ID.

“Why don't you just leave me alone?” she found herself yelling as tears flooded her eyes. “No no no. I'm not going to cry,” she told herself as she began to pace away the tears. “I've dealt with this for far too long to be crying about it now. No, I'm not going to do it.” She briskfully and harshfully rubbed her hands across her eyes just as the phone rang again.

She'd had enough. She couldn't hide behind the threat of a ringing phone forever. How crazy was that? If she kept it up, she thought she might go crazy for real, end up in a room with four rubber walls. Her brother had already taken so much from her. She refused to hand him her sanity on a silver platter.

With every ounce of courage she could muster up, she walked over and picked the phone up, placing it to her ear. “Yes, mother,” she answered. Just then, it felt like every ounce of bravery she had just moments ago had evaporated into thin air. She thought of her brother being on the other line with her mother via three-way, and it sent a chill through her veins. She completely froze when she thought of something even worse. What if he weren't on the three-way? What if he were right there with her mother? In the very same house on the very same phone line? What if—what if he had been released from jail?

For the past couple of weeks, both Mother Doreen and Bethany had been walking around the house on egg shells. With Uriah back on the road and the children involved in school and extra curricular activities, it always seemed to be just the two of them in the house. Constantly being around someone and not speaking to them had taken its toll on Mother Doreen. To her, it just didn't seem Christ-like. She wanted to sit down and talk with her sister, perhaps continue the subject matter they had touched upon back at the restaurant. But God hadn't yet given Mother Doreen the words she needed to speak into her sister's life, and anything other than that would have been flesh. So as difficult as it was, Sister Doreen remained silent and waited on God.

Even today as they sat next to each other in church receiving the Word, when instructed by Pastor Davidson to touch their neighbor and tell them that they are blessed, they both made it a point to touch the neighbor opposite of one another. When instructed to touch their other neighbor, they were forced to speak.

“You are blessed.” Neither one of them sounded convincing. And other than those three words, the two didn't share anymore with each other. They just sat through the remainder of the Word, altar call, and then the benediction.

Mother Doreen had noticed that Bethany was one of those church folks who always made her way to the altar after service to shake her pastor's hand. Normally, Mother Doreen would be by her side, but she didn't want to be transparent in front of Pastor Davidson, fearing he might call the two sisters on the clear distance between them. So Mother Doreen decided to go on and head to the car.

“Mother Doreen!”

She turned to see Pastor Davidson waving her down. Her plan of escape had failed.

Mother Doreen huffed under her breath, and then made her way to Pastor Davidson. She stopped momentarily and huffed even louder when she saw Pastor Davidson wave down Pastor Frey as well. Everything in her wanted to turn around and pretend she hadn't even noticed the pastor's summons, but she'd already made clear eye contact with him.

“Pastor Davidson, you preached a mighty powerful word today,” Mother Doreen complimented. “Didn't he, sis?” Mother Doreen looked to Bethany and smiled.

Bethany appeared to be like a cat in its kitty litter trying to cover up a mess.

“Why thank you, Sister Doreen. I'm glad you received it.” Pastor Davidson smiled, not taking note of the fact that Bethany slightly rolled her eyes at her sister and didn't respond. “You know, membership usually goes down whenever I preach about hell and damnation, but hey, I have to be obedient to the Master.”

“Amen to that,” Mother Doreen agreed.

“But anyway, I haven't gotten a chance to speak with either you or my assistant pastor here.” Pastor Davidson patted Pastor Frey's back. “How did your dinner date go a couple of weeks ago?”

Bethany twisted her lips.

“You mean our meeting?” Mother Doreen was precise in her annunciation of the word meeting.

“Uh, yeah, well, you know.” Pastor Davidson laughed it off. “Was Pastor here able to enlighten you on the different ministries here at Living Word, Living Waters? I understand that eventually you'd like to return to your hometown in Ohio and continue your ministries there, but while you are here, I don't see why you can't bless us with your gifts, talents, and time. You know, God's work is never really church work. It's kingdom work, which means your ministries should be able to go wherever you go. God will make room for them, you know. But I'm sure I don't have to remind a woman of God such as yourself about God's Word. Do I?”

If Mother Doreen wasn't mistaken, it sounded almost as if Pastor Davidson was trying to convict her for not being active in his church.

“Oh, I'm sure you don't have to remind her,” Bethany said, not making a very good attempt at covering up her sarcasm. “She knows everything, about the Word that is.”

Pastor Davidson let out a nervous chuckle, and then continued. “Nonetheless, that's why I asked my assistant pastor here to sort of mentor you, or counsel you if you will, on the vision and mission of our church.” Pastor put his hands up in defense before Mother Doreen could say a word. “Now I know what you are thinking, that Pastor Frey is younger than you.” He patted Pastor Frey once again. “Oh, but he is wise with wisdom of the Word. Loaded with biblical knowledge. Besides, age ain't nothing but a number.” He looked to Pastor Frey. “Ain't that right, brother?”

Pastor Frey discretely looked at Bethany before his eyes focused on his shoes. “That's what I hear, Pastor. That's what I hear.”

“Good, then it's all settled. Until Mother Doreen receives a revelation on what she's called to do while here, I'd like for the two of you to meet weekly, and then report back to me.” Pastor Frey looked at Mother Doreen. “Over dinner of course. And of course, I'll be flipping the tab. That way, even if you decide not to be a part of the ministry, you'll still at least get something out of it.” He winked, then looked to Pastor Frey, and then back at Mother Doreen. “Maybe even more than you both ever bargained for.” He looked at Bethany and winked at her, accompanied by a nod. “Now if you all will excuse me. There are a couple of visitors I'd like to go say hello to before they get away.” On that note, Pastor Davidson walked away.

Reading between the lines, it was now pretty clear to the three parties left standing there that Pastor Davidson had something up his collar. It was more than just seeing to it that Mother Doreen became a part of the Living Word family. It appeared more as though he wanted her to become a part of Pastor Frey's family.

Mother Doreen had to admit that after having dinner with Pastor Frey a couple of weeks ago, he wasn't that bad at all. She was glad that she'd declined Uriah's invitation for them all to have dinner together. This enabled her valuable time alone with Pastor Frey in order to discern his true intentions with her sister. Surprisingly enough, after she'd returned from the restroom where she had a minor altercation with her sister, the two had a pleasant time.

At first, Mother Doreen had studied his actions closely. She wanted to see if he acted funny with Bethany having dinner with her husband a mere few tables away. She studied his eyes closely, figuring she would find them wandering off to observe Bethany and her family, but they never did. His eyes, instead, stayed steady on Mother Doreen as he held conversation with her. She looked for all the tell-tale signs; his looking downward, over her shoulder, at her chin, doing anything at all cost to keep from looking her in the eyes for fear she'd see right through him. But again, none of that happened. Not once did he seem distracted from his mission at hand, his assignment from his superior to share with her the different ministries at Living Word and where she might be able to assist.

Pastor Frey wasn't the only one doing the talking over dinner. Mother Doreen had found herself sharing information about her ministries back at New Day Temple of Faith, including the Single's Ministry.

“We don't have a Single's Ministry here at Living Word,” Pastor Frey had informed her. “Perhaps that's something you could lay the foundation for while you are here,” he suggested.

“Well, it was fairly new, too new to really see whether or not the vision, mission, and bylaws we had set up were actually effective,” Mother Doreen replied in between bites of her French Onion Soup. “Anyway, I need to call back to Ohio and get with the new leader that was left in charge to see how things are going. Prayerfully the ministry is growing.”

“Oh, if you planted the seed ordained by God, I'm sure He's watering and doing a wonderful work with it indeed. Which is why you should maybe pray that God would have you do the same for Living Word.”

“Hmmm.” Mother Doreen's spoon rested over her soup. “You might be right, Pastor Frey.” And she didn't even stutter when agreeing with the man. “I never thought of that. I guess God could have some other work for me lined up down here besides watching out for—” Mother Doreen halted her words, and then quickly shoved a spoonful of soup in her mouth. She couldn't believe she'd almost said what she was about to say, that God had something for her to do in Kentucky other than watch his sneaky behind. “Anyway, I'll pray on it.”

“That's all we can ask.” Pastor Frey smiled and winked. The smile was charming to Mother Doreen. The wink made her blush, only she didn't realize that she was blushing. But Pastor Frey noticed.

“So I hope you don't mind me asking, but with God putting it into your spirit to start a Single's Ministry, can I assume that you are single and in the market for a husband?”

“I wouldn't go as far as to say that. I mean, I am single, but in the market for a husband? I mean, I follow the lead of the Holy Spirit. Whatever God has for me, I want it. But I can't honestly say starting that ministry had anything to do with me wanting to find a husband. After all, any man God sent my way would have big shoes to follow after my Willie.” She looked up. “God rest my Willie's soul.” She drew an invisible cross across her heart with her index finger, and then continued. “He was a mighty fine husband indeed. Flaws and all.” A light bulb went off in Mother Doreen's head as the breeze from the door of opportunity swiftly opened and brushed across her face. “So tell me, Pastor Frey, have you ever been married?”

“Once or twice,” he winked. Mother Doreen kept a steady face that made Pastor Frey change his mind about the smile that was going to follow the wink. He cleared his throat and got serious. “I'm once divorced, once widowed. My first marriage, I was young and fresh out of high school. Trying to be too big for my britches. We never even made it through our honeymoon before she ran off with a fellow high school classmate who went pro-ball first round draft pick.” He shook his head. “I knew I shouldn't have quit the basketball team junior year.”

“God's plan is always better, so I'm sure some good came out of the situation.”

“It did, it did,” Pastor Frey agreed. “Then there was Jean, my second wife. Virtuous woman of God she was. She lost her life in a car accident.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, Pastor.” Mother Doreen gave her deepest of sympathy.

“I just thank God that He saw fit to give me seven years with her, even though He took her away in an instant.”

“That must have been difficult for you and your children.”

“Oh, I don't have any children, not technically. After the accident we learned that Jean was with child. That was a double whammy because we had tried for years to conceive.” He looked up to heaven. “Though He slay me, still will I trust Him.” He cited the scripture from the book of Job.

“Amen. Hallelujah,” was all Mother Doreen could say before finishing up her soup. “How come you never thought of starting a Single's Ministry?” Mother Doreen got back on track and started picking. For some reason, Pastor Frey's genuine sincerity had a way of throwing her off her path. “You are single after all. Aren't you?”

“Uh, yeah, you know how it is. I really don't have the time it takes to dedicate to develop a relationship.”

“I see.” Mother Doreen paused momentarily. “I'm sure if God has that special someone out there for you, He'll make it so that you have the time.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. He always seems to make time for everything else. For instance like right now. I can't remember when I was last able to fit a night out to dinner into my busy schedule, but what do you know? It's just like you said, Sister Doreen, God made a way.”

Mother Doreen couldn't help but stand there at the altar and reflect on those words that Pastor Frey had spoken at dinner two weeks ago. If she weren't mistaken, it was almost as if he were inadvertently trying to flirt with her. She blushed at the thought, not realizing that she was blushing. But as Pastor Frey stood there, he noticed. And Bethany noticed too.