Divine Intervention (27 page)
Read Divine Intervention Online
Authors: Lutishia Lovely
55
Back In Stride Again
M
ama Max sat straight up in her bed. “What?”
ama Max sat straight up in her bed. “What?”
“That fire I saw when we were talking earlier, the one at Meadowbrook?”
“Uh-huh.”
“They released the name of the victim just now, on the news. Said it was seventy-three-year-old Dorothea Jenkins. I can’t imagine that there would be two at the same age with the same name, can you?”
“Sounds highly unlikely.” Mama Max got out of bed, slipping on her robe and house shoes before turning up the dimmer. “Lord Jesus, if this is true, Obadiah is going to be devastated. That man is going to be beside himself.”
“They gave the apartment number. I think it was one-twentyseven.”
“Okay. Nettie, let me get off from here and call Obadiah. Let me know if you hear anything more.”
“Will do.”
Mama Max ended the call to Nettie and immediately called Obadiah. Upon hearing his voice heavy with sleep, she admonished, “Obadiah, wake up!”
“What in the world, Maxine?”
“I know it’s late but this might be important. Have you talked to Dorothea lately?”
Obadiah, who’d indeed been sound asleep, now tried to clear his brain enough to think of why his wife was asking about his mistress. “What?”
“Dor-o-the-a, Obadiah. Stop acting like you’re deaf and dumb. Have you talked to her?”
“Not since a week ago, when I ended things between us and told her good-bye. Why?”
Mama Max took a breath. “Because I just got off the phone with Nettie. She heard something disturbing on the news.”
“Nettie? What’d she hear?” Mama Max told him. A long pause and then, “Maxine, I’ve got to go.” And then he hung up the phone.
“Jesus,” Mama Max said while dialing King’s cell phone. “Just like I figured. . . . King,” she shifted her thoughts once again when her son answered, “where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
“Go next door and see about your daddy. I just gave him some bad news.”
“What happened?”
“We think that Dorothea is dead. I just told Obadiah and he hung up on me. I need you to go and make sure he’s okay.”
King got off the phone, slipped back into the warm-ups he’d discarded for his preferred sleeping attire, nudity, and went next door. “Dad!” he yelled, as he knocked. No answer. “Dad!” He knocked several more times, waited a few minutes, then went back into his room and retrieved his phone. Standing outside his father’s hotel room, he dialed his dad’s cell phone number. King could hear it ringing from the other side of the door, but his father didn’t answer. King looked over the railing into the parking lot. Yes, his father’s Cadillac was parked in the same spot it had been in for the past two weeks. Panic set in as King pounded on the door. He rushed down the steps and over to the office.
A studious-looking twenty-something stood behind the counter. “Hi, may I h—”
“It’s my dad,” King said, breathless from excitement and his run to the office. “I think something has happened to him.”
“And your dad is . . .”
“Obadiah Brook. Room four-twenty-five. I’m his son, King, staying next door. I need you to open the door.”
“I’m sorry, Mr.—”
King didn’t realize he was going for the young man’s collar until the material was twisted around his fist. “If you don’t open that door and my daddy dies I swear I will—”
“Okay, okay,” the clerk croaked through a cotton choke hold. King released him. The clerk coughed as he walked over to a case filled with keys. “It’s against policy,” he said as he came around the counter and followed a fast-walking King out the door. “But we’ll”—King turned around and glared—“make an exception.”
They reached the room. The clerk opened the door. King went inside and found his father sprawled out on the floor. Whether or not he was breathing was anyone’s guess.
Mama Max stood at the front door, watching as her tall, strapping son helped his old, feeble-looking father exit King’s Lincoln SUV. It looked as though Obadiah had aged ten years in as many days. He’d lost weight, which caused him to have sunken jaws and slack skin. His usually bright, astute eyes were filmy and his hair had turned even grayer than it had been. Using a cane, Obadiah stood to his full height, batted away King’s assisting arm, and looked toward his destination, the front door of the house he’d shared with Maxine Brook for more than thirty years. There, he saw her, looking fine and formidable, her expression unreadable. He faltered just a bit, but straightening his spine once again, made the slow journey up the sidewalk, up the steps, and into the living room.
“How you feeling?” Mama Max asked, as Obadiah reached the couch and sat down heavily. “You hungry?”
Obadiah shook his head.
Hmm, not a good sign.
Obadiah never turned down Mama Max’s food. Ever. “Thirsty?”
Obadiah never turned down Mama Max’s food. Ever. “Thirsty?”
“I’ll take some water,” Obadiah replied. His hoarse voice mirrored his tired soul.
“What about you, son? Have you eaten dinner?”
“No, Mama, but I have a meeting at the church. I need to run.” He kissed his mother and shook hands with his dad. “I’ll have Tabitha call y’all later to see if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine, son,” Obadiah assured him. “Go and take care of your ministry.”
Mama Max went into the kitchen and busied herself by warming up the dinner she’d prepared: smothered chicken and gravy, rice, peas, fried corn, and freshly baked biscuits. As she did so, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Obadiah’s reaction a week ago, when he found out about Dorothea’s death, hadn’t been lost on her. The man had almost gone into cardiac arrest and, had the hospital been farther away than the five minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive and get him stabilized, the Brooks may have been attending a funeral, too. The doctors had performed a surgery to relieve pressure on his arteries and help the blood flow to his heart. And when she’d delivered the news confirming Dorothea’s demise, he’d collapsed in her arms and cried like a baby.
“I did this, I killed her,” he’d lamented.
And while Mama Max had shushed him and demanded he stop talking foolishness, a part of her thought that he might have been right.
Twenty minutes later, Mama Max walked into the living room carrying a tray of piping hot food. “I know you said you weren’t hungry,” she said as she positioned the tray on his lap and secured a large, cloth napkin over his shirt. “But you need to eat something to get your strength back.”
Obadiah looked at Mama Max a long moment. He picked up the fork, speared a good chunk of the succulent chicken, and brought it to his mouth. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, closing his eyes as he did so. “I guess you right,” he said at last, placing the fork down on the plate. “Especially since I’m going to be leaving here soon.”
Mama Max straightened to her full five foot four and fixed Obadiah with a look that while not lethal, could do major damage. “What are you talking ’bout, leaving? You going back to Dallas?”
“No, woman! But you’ve made it clear I can’t stay here. Seems like I’m in the way of you and that Henry fella dallying around. My grandchild is going to help me find an apartment around here, or something, until you come to your senses.”
“Oh, now it’s me who’s got to come to my senses? Well, at least I’ve got some sense. I’m not a crippled-ass old man at a woman’s mercy, trying to argue with her while he eats her food!” She spoke with vehemence, but there was a twinkle in her eye. “Your old room is ready for you, Obadiah. You don’t have to go nowhere.”
Obadiah looked up. “For how long?”
A moment passed between them, nearly magical in its arrival. It was almost like Obadiah was sixteen again, Mama Max was fourteen, and they were meeting at the fork in the road that separated the two family’s farms ... the place where Obadiah had confidently declared that Maxine Brook would be his wife.
“I guess you can stay here as long as your heart’s beating,” Mama Max finally replied, batting away unexpected tears. “Now eat your food,” she continued brusquely to cover the moment’s emotion. “Before it gets cold.”
“Woman don’t know how to welcome a man home,” Obadiah mumbled under his breath.
“Man don’t know how to appreciate being here,” Mama Max stuck her head out of the kitchen to retort. Obviously, Obadiah’s’s mumble hadn’t been low enough.
And just like that the marriage was back . . . fifty-four years and counting.
56
Something Inside So Strong
V
ivian navigated her Mercedes along Wilshire Boulevard before turning onto I-405 and heading south, toward Redondo Beach. She was thankful for whoever invented hands-free devices, otherwise Tai’s news may have caused an accident. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, continuing their conversation. “I’m always happy to see a marriage stay together, to hear of couples who are able to work things out. But honestly? After Reverend Doctor O left her to be with Dorothea down in Dallas, I never thought she’d take him back.”
ivian navigated her Mercedes along Wilshire Boulevard before turning onto I-405 and heading south, toward Redondo Beach. She was thankful for whoever invented hands-free devices, otherwise Tai’s news may have caused an accident. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, continuing their conversation. “I’m always happy to see a marriage stay together, to hear of couples who are able to work things out. But honestly? After Reverend Doctor O left her to be with Dorothea down in Dallas, I never thought she’d take him back.”
“I didn’t either.” Tai was driving also, leaving Gates Bar-B-Q, where she’d stopped after her hair and nail appointment, even now trying to stop her mouth from watering caused by the ribs she smelled. “But I think his heart attack, or whatever it was, caused her to rethink her position. Mama Max wouldn’t be able to live with herself if Daddy O died in some remote hotel room, all alone.”
“I feel so sorry for Mrs. Jenkins’s family,” Vivian said.
“Why?” Tai asked.
“Tai! Whatever your family feels about that woman, she had her own relatives who I’m sure loved her very much.”
“Don’t we all,” Tai said with chagrin.
Vivian paused. “Why do I get the feeling that we’re no longer talking about Dorothea Jenkins? Look, don’t even answer that question. What’s going on with you and King?”
“Oh, girl, everything is so messed up. I told our children that King and I were divorcing.”
“You told me that you were going to tell them. What happened?”
“They pretty much went ballistic. Out of all of them, Michael really surprised me. I mean he’s the oldest, and has been away from home the longest. I thought his would be the calmest reaction. But that award goes to Princess.”
“Really?”
“I’m just as shocked as you are, but yes, when I called and told her that her Daddy and I were divorcing, she asked a few questions, and then said that she would be praying for us.”
“Wow.”
“Tell me about it.”
“How are the twins?”
Tai sighed. “Everybody is better now.”
“Because . . .”
“Because King has talked me into delaying my filing a divorce petition until after the holidays. It will give our family time to adjust to this new situation, give Daddy O time to get better, and give King and I time to slowly break this to the church family. I don’t want to hate King, Vivian. Really, I don’t. I don’t want to see the ministry suffer. Heck, my blood, sweat, and tears went into its success just as much as his did. We want to formulate a strategy whereby I can make my exit as smoothly and seamlessly as possible. I want to let our members know that my divorcing King in no way reflects on my feelings about the ministry. King is a great pastor. He’s just a lousy husband.”
“I don’t know, Tai. Members have a tendency to react strongly to divorce. What happened at Logos Word following Stan and Carla’s separation comes to mind. I don’t think there’s any way that you and King will avoid some type of fallout from what’s getting ready to happen.”
“I know. But if I can help minimize it, then I will.”
“So does that mean that King is back home? I’ve always worried that some church member would see him coming out of his hotel room.”
“Me, too. Even though they were staying in Olathe, which is about fifteen miles from the church, I still believed in the possibility of somebody seeing either him or his father, and wondering why in the heck they weren’t home with their wives.”
“Tai, don’t get mad at me for what I’m about to ask you, but—”
“I know what you’re thinking, Viv. You’re wondering if there is any chance that I won’t go through with my plans to divorce King.”
“It’s totally your choice, sistah, and I support you in whatever you decide. But you know how I feel—that at least he came straight to you, confessed his sins, and since that day has made you privy to everything including his e-mails and cell phone records. I agree that for a married man, one time in somebody else’s bed is one time too many, but it just seems like a couple days of island foolishness versus twenty-five years of marriage is something to seriously weigh before throwing in the towel.”
“If this decision was purely based on a couple days of island foolishness, then we might not be having this conversation. But it’s not. It’s based on a long string of infidelities throughout our twenty-five-year marriage. At the end of the day I need to be able to look my daughters, church members, and myself in the eye and know that as much as I love King, I love myself more.” For a moment both Tai and Vivian were silent, as Tai watched the buildings pass on I-35 and Vivian observed the boats bobbing in the marina as she neared her destination. “I have thought about it,” Tai continued at last. “Staying with him. I remember a
Lifeclass
show on OWN where they talked about the ego, and I realize a lot of my hurt, anger, indignation, and sadness comes from that place. When viewing life from my higher self, it’s easy to think of staying with King. But when I think with my brain, and feel with my heart, leaving is the only answer.”
Lifeclass
show on OWN where they talked about the ego, and I realize a lot of my hurt, anger, indignation, and sadness comes from that place. When viewing life from my higher self, it’s easy to think of staying with King. But when I think with my brain, and feel with my heart, leaving is the only answer.”
“I’m praying for you, sis,” Vivian said as she turned into the parking lot of a popular restaurant. She reached the valet station and exited the car. “I’ll have to call you later, Tai. I’m here. Guess who I’m about to meet for lunch.”
“Who?”
“Passion.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She called the church and has some ideas about Ladies First that she’d like to share. She’d also like to become active in the SOS conferences.”
“Interesting.”
“Isn’t it? You know I have a loyalty to Carla, but I’ve determined to put aside my personal feelings and listen to her with my heart. She is Stan’s wife, a first lady, and a California resident, which means that by right there’s no reason she shouldn’t be a part of either organization.”
“I wonder what Carla will say about having the woman who had a part to play in her divorce now joining her at the planning table.”
“If I know Carla, it will be plenty.”
“Ha! No doubt. There’s Passion,” Vivian said, with a wave to the first lady of Logos Word. “I’ve got to run . . . but, Tai?”
“Yes?”
“When it comes to your marriage, whatever decision you make is the right one. Stay strong.”
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