36
They Say He’s Just a Friend
O
badiah took in Mama Max’s youthful appearance. Yes, a youthful seventy-three. Her hair was perfectly coiffed as always, done up in a chignon, the gray-sprinkled coloring a complement to her sienna-toned skin. The oversized top was no surprise either. It was a wardrobe staple, a safe bet for anyone wanting to get her a gift. But he didn’t think he’d seen this one before.
When did she exchange her cotton numbers for this silky looking thing? And are those jeans she’s wearing? For the love of God!
“Maxine.” The unspoken words behind this one word utterance would have filled the Library of Congress.
Mama Max hid her surprise behind genuine perplexity. “What are you doing here, Obadiah?”
“My name’s on this here deed, last time I checked.”
Mama Max’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s the limb you want to climb out on?”
Not unless I want to break my neck.
Obadiah sighed. “Maxine, after all the driving I’ve been doing, all I want is a good hot meal and a place to lay my head.”
Remembering that King and Tai were out of town and that the twins were vacationing in Florida with Tai’s parents, Mama Max opened the door and stepped aside for Obadiah to enter. “You drove here?”
“Figured that I’d need my vehicle since I plan to be here awhile.”
This tidbit of information stopped Mama Max in her tracks. “What’s going on, Obadiah?”
Too much for Obadiah to explain on an empty stomach. He’d never liked fast food, and the chicken an associate minister’s wife had brought over for his journey had been eaten long ago. “What’s for supper?”
“Hey, Maxie!” Henry followed his usual route through the side door into the kitchen.
The shock of seeing Obadiah on her doorstep had made Mama Max forget all about Henry. She went to cut him off in the kitchen, but hadn’t moved fast enough.
“I sure hope you’re hungry, girl, because I’ve—” He saw Obadiah and stopped short. “I, uh, didn’t notice that you had company.”
Both Obadiah and Mama Max noted the beautiful bouquet of flowers Henry clutched in his hand. Obadiah took a step closer to Mama Max.
Mama Max walked over to where Henry stood. “Why, Henry, these flowers are lovely!”
A surprised Henry followed her into the kitchen. A scowling Obadiah trailed them both. “I saw them in the store and remembered how much you like lilies. They had a buy one, get one free sale so . . . I bought you two.”
“You shouldn’t have bought her any,” Obadiah growled from just inside the kitchen. “Maxine’s a married woman—just in case you didn’t know.”
“Don’t look like her husband’s been too keen on that fact,” Henry drawled, as he slowly turned around. “She was living here by herself, last time I checked.”
Obadiah took a step forward. “Boy, you’d better watch who you’re messing with.”
“If you see a boy, you kick his ass.” Henry took a step as well.
Mama Max stepped between them. “I’m going to take a rolling pin to both you rascals if you don’t calm down!” She looked from Henry to Obadiah and back again. “Last time I checked we were all grown folk. Now, can we act like it or do I need to put both of y’all out of my house?”
A still glowering Obadiah walked over to the table located in the kitchen and sat down in a huff. Henry leaned against the refrigerator and crossed his arms. Mama Max took the flowers that he still clutched. “Let me put these in some water.”
“We should be going, Maxie,” Henry said, looking at his watch and then at Obadiah. “I don’t want us to have to rush through dinner before the movie starts.”
Dinner? Movie?
A bulldog couldn’t have scowled any deeper than Obadiah did right then.
“I guess you’re right,” Mama Max said, walking past the two men to set the vase of flowers on the dining room table.
Obadiah was hot on her heels. “Do you mean to tell me that you’re going out with this man, and that you are going to do it right under my nose?”
“Yes, Obadiah. My neighbor, Henry, and I are going out to eat and then to see Tyler Perry.” Mama Max was cucumber-calm. “And when I made these plans, I had no idea your nose would be in my house.”
“It’s my house, too, Maxine.”
“Maxie, let’s go.”
“Let me get my purse.”
“Her name ain’t Maxie, you ignorant heathen! My
wife’s
name is
Maxine
!”
Ignoring him, Henry crossed into the living room to the front door. “I’ll be waiting for you outside,
Maxie,
” he countered. He left without looking back.
Obadiah watched as Mama Max descended the stairs with purse in hand. “I never thought you’d step out on me, Maxine,” he said somberly. “But you are.”
“I never thought you’d forsake your wedding vows to live in sin. But you did.” She walked out the door with her head held high, humming “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”
When she returned more than four hours later, she assumed that Obadiah would be long gone. But he wasn’t.
37
Losing My Religion
“Y
our mama done lost her religion . . . and her mind.” After several hours of stewing in his own juices, Obadiah had reached out to his son, King.
“What’s going on now, Daddy?”
“I walked in on your mama fixing to go out on a
date
.” He spat out the word as though it were poison.
“You’re in Kansas City?” King’s question was laced with surprise.
“Yeah, thought it was about time I came back home. And looks like it wasn’t a moment too soon.”
Even more incredulity wafted around King’s words. “Wait, Dad, back up. You’ve
moved
back to Kansas City, and you’re trying to get back with Mama?”
“My things are still down in Dallas but, yes, son. I want to come back home.”
“And you came back without asking?” King’s mind was reeling. Of all of the conversations he might have expected to have with his dad, this was not one of them. And considering everything else on his mental plate, the timing wasn’t necessarily the best either.
Daddy back home? Mama on a date? WTH???
“Son, I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t need nobody’s permission to come back to my own house.”
When he got the call, King had stepped out of the room where members of the Montgomery clan, the Brooks, and various church members waited. Now he felt even more distance was needed, lest any part of this conversation be overheard. He stepped outside. “Dad, need I remind you that you’ve spent the better part of a year in an affair?”
“Boy, you don’t need to remind me of nothing!”
“Evidently somebody does, Dad. You’ve been hanging out with another woman for way too long, come home unannounced, and are surprised to see that Mama has gone on with her life. What was she supposed to do?”
Obadiah didn’t have an answer for that one.
“Who was she, uh, going out with?” Being the first time in his life that he’d spoken them, King found it hard to get these words out of his mouth.
“Henry Logan.” Spoken through a countenance as one who smelled dookey.
“He any kin to her neighbor, Mrs. Logan?”
“He’s Beatrice’s son.”
King was floored. He’d been so busy with the ministry lately that conversation with his mother had been regular but brief. They’d talked about the usual—kids, church, politics—before he’d either get another call or hand over the phone to Tai. He wondered if Tai knew about his mother’s . . . his mother’s what? Friend? Love interest? Brothah man on the side? King didn’t even know if he wanted to find out.
“Daddy, if he’s Mrs. Logan’s son, then there’s a good chance that this is less about something between Mama and Henry and more about Miss Beatrice. You know what good friends she and Mama are, and that Mama has been visiting her regularly since the stroke.” This was an explanation that King could live with. He gained confidence in its probable truth with each word he spoke. “As a matter of fact, I now remember Mama saying something about Miss Beatrice’s son moving back home to take care of his mom. He was probably over at Mama’s giving her an update.”
“He was at your mama’s house with a bouquet of flowers, and they were on their way to have dinner and go to a movie. Does that sound like them talking about Miss Beatrice to you?”
This time it was King without an answer. Because if what his father said was to be believed (and there was no reason not to believe him), it looked as though his conservative, church-going mama was channeling Stella . . . and trying to get back her groove!
King saw Tai walking down the hall. He assumed she was looking for him. “Look, Dad, I’ve got to run. We’re expecting Derrick out of surgery any minute and then we’ll know whether the tumor they removed was malignant or benign.”
“I’ll pray for Derrick, son.” A pause and then, “You pray for me.”
38
A Healer In The Sickroom
A
ll eyes were on Vivian as she walked into one of Cedars-Sinai’s private rooms. She took a deep breath, before saying two words. “It’s benign.”
Instant celebration. Spontaneous praise.
“Thank you, Jesus!” Derrick’s mother cried, while his father simply hung his head to hide the tears.
“Praise the Lord,” Victor Stanford whispered. It was a rare time that Vivian’s father was subdued or at a loss for words. His reaction showed just how much he loved his son-in-law and just how frightened for him he had been.
Other exclamations echoed around the room, a multiplicity of “glories” and “hallelujahs” among them. Tai walked over and embraced her friend. “I’m so happy for you, sis,” she whispered in her ear. “God answers prayers.”
Vivian looked into Tai’s tear-filled eyes. They mirrored her own. “That He does.”
Kelvin and Princess walked up to where Vivian and Tai were standing. He hugged Vivian. She hugged Tai.
After he stepped back from Vivian, Kelvin addressed Princess’s mother. “Hello, Miss Tai.”
Not wanting to place a sour note in such a celebratory moment, Tai responded simply, “Kelvin.”
King walked over. Like Tai, he hadn’t had a chance for a real tête-à-tête with his daughter, and his former lover’s son. And on top of this unresolved drama was the recent phone call with Obadiah, not to mention what had happened in Barbados. For the moment, at least, King felt he could be thankful. For the moment his best friend who was like a brother was out of the proverbial woods.
He hugged Vivian. “God heard our prayers, sistah.” Vivian nodded. He hugged Tai.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. She leaned back to look into his eyes and was bothered by the troubled orbs that stared back at her. But of course he’d be showing signs of concern. His best friend had been given a reprieve from death’s sure door, and he was standing next to the young man he’d almost beat down just three years before. “You look tired,” she whispered.
King pulled back. “I am.” His cell phone rang. It was an unknown number. “King Brook.”
“Hello, handsome.”
His heart skipped a beat. He shot a quick glance at Tai before stepping away from the tense atmosphere surrounding his wife, Princess, and their new son-in-law. “Hello,” he said, once he’d stepped outside the room.
“How are you, lover?”
“I thought we already had this conversation and agreed that what happened on the island was going to have to stay there.” King had tried to forget what took place just before he left Barbados, when his mind was distracted and his flesh was weak. He’d all but pushed aside the exhilarating feeling of that incredibly delicious night: her baby soft skin underneath him, his muscular body hovering above, her gasps, his pants, her tears, his comforting, her pledges of undying love, his heartfelt joy tempered by plaguing guilt. With all the events he’d dealt with since returning home, blocking out that night of indiscretion hadn’t been too difficult. But now, “indiscretion” was on the line.
“I am still here. I just want you with me.”
King heard the door to the private room open. He looked over and saw a couple Kingdom Citizens church members exit the room. “Why are you calling me?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“I miss you. I want to know how you are.” A pause, and then, “I want to feel you inside of me again.”
King closed his eyes in frustration, cursing his weakness for the umpteenth time, and vowing yet again that what had happened in Barbados had occurred for the absolute last time.
“Charmaine, what we shared will always be special. I’ll never forget the time that I spent with you, and will always wish you well. Someday, you’re going to meet an awesome man and he’ll be very blessed to call you his wife. As I told you before I left there . . . I am
not
that man.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with truth and longing. “I wish you were.”
“If wishes came true, many things would be different.” King looked up to see Tai walking toward him. “Look, I’ve got to go.” He hung up without a good-bye.
“Who was that?”
“Joseph,” King said, the lie rolling smoothly and convincingly off his tongue. “He wanted to know whether I’d be staying here or returning to Barbados to finish our work there.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“I don’t know.” A memory of Charmaine’s long, silky legs wrapped itself around King’s mind. Just that quickly, his resolve weakened. “I’m thinking to go back...especially since we’ve received Derrick’s good news.”
Tai nodded, and placed her head on King’s shoulder. “I’m so glad his tumor was benign. I truly don’t know how Vivian would have handled any other outcome.”
“Thankfully, we don’t have to find out.” King placed his arm around Tai. “Guess it’s now time to deal with this other situation.”
Tai raised her head. “Your daughter?”
King chuckled. “So now she’s all mine, huh?”
“You know it. There’s no part of me that would be so stupid as to make the decision that she did. Kelvin over Rafael? No, let’s go back even farther. Marriage at all at the age of twenty-two? Ridiculous.”
“Let’s hope you didn’t share these positive feelings with her and her new hubby.”
“Not in so many words,” Tai sarcastically replied. “Princess and I had lunch before we came here. I’m trying to be civil about it, King, but you can surely understand my difficulty in accepting this.”
Considering that King’s affair with Kelvin’s mother spanned a decade, he surely could. “Why don’t we invite them out for a late dinner; try and make a new start with the man Princess married.”
“That sounds like a plan, but let’s go someplace where I can order soup. Because if I have something sharper than a spoon, like a knife or fork at my disposal . . . things might get ugly.”