Good to Me (32 page)

She sat down. “Okay, where should we begin?”

Emmitt placed the Bible back in its place and turned toward Charity. “I want to apologize to you. I am so sorry for all of
the pain I caused you.” Even though Charity had turned her head, Emmitt kept talking. “You have been right so many times about
so many things. I apologize for not listening to you, for not respecting you. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a husband
to you.”

“I accept that,” Charity said firmly. “But that’s not the first apology I want to hear.”

Emmitt looked at her with a confused expression on his face. When he saw the tears fall from her eyes, he froze in place.
He didn’t know whether to reach out to hold her or to let her cry.

“What about for choking me? Emmitt, you’ve never admitted or apologized for choking me.”

He held his head in his hands and racked his brain to remember the incident she was referring to. He honestly could not remember
choking her. He remembered them arguing over the baby. He remembered shouting loudly at her. Either he cornered or pushed
her back to the wall. But that’s all he remembered. “Charity, I really don’t remember. But if I choked you, why didn’t you
scream?”

She stood up fighting mad. “How could I scream when I couldn’t even breathe?”

Emmitt heard wailing but he didn’t know that it was coming from him. “Oh God,” he moaned in between sobs. “Oh God. I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.”

When Charity tried to comfort him, he held her away with his hand. “Emmitt, don’t do this. Let me help you,” she demanded
softly.

“How come I don’t remember this? And if I don’t remember this, what else have I done that I don’t remember?”

He allowed her to sit next to him on the couch.

“I’m not trying to be your therapist, but because I am one I know that there is an explanation for this. I have just never
wanted to accept it. It was easier for me to believe that you were lying about not remembering that you choked me.” She turned
his head toward her. “But it’s not uncommon for people to suppress traumatic experiences and to not recall specifics later.
Like the time your mother’s boyfriend held you at gunpoint. Do you remember all of what happened that day? What about the
day of your accident? How much of that do you remember?”

Emmitt shook his head.

“Well, this is comparable to that. Another point of view to consider is the spiritual explanation. I believe this one even
more. You were not yourself when your hands were gripping around my throat. Emmitt, you said things you would have never said,
to anyone. Do you remember what you said?”

He shook his head again.

“You called me all kinds of names, using choice words I had never heard you say, and you threatened to rip my heart out. You
were not yourself,” she reiterated. “No one wants to kill me like that, no one but the devil, and what does the devil aim
for daily? My heart, the thing that connects me to God.” She closed her eyes. “Even while it was happening, all I could see
was red, or blood. I don’t even remember seeing you. Maybe I was blacking out or something, I don’t know. But I truly believe
you were possessed, on an assignment from the enemy to take me out. I don’t even remember how it ended. Or why you let go.
I don’t remember that.…”

Emmitt considered everything Charity said and as sincerely as he could he asked her forgiveness. “Will you please forgive
me for…” He looked down and then up again. “For… cho—choking you. I would never hurt you in that way. Seeing my
mom in and out of abusive relationships and marriages, I have always vowed that I would never hit a woman. And I did. I’m
sorry. With God’s help, I’ll never hurt you again.”

She put her arm around his shoulder and said, “Thank you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. But in order to get
God’s help, you have to be saved. Are you ready for that?”

He wiped his face and smiled lightly. “I am already.”

Charity squealed in delight, “What? When? How?”

He was so excited he told her the whole story in about a minute.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you. Xavier will be glad to hear that. We’ve been praying together for you.”

He sighed. “Speaking of our son. I want to apologize for this whole court thing. I don’t know what I was thinking, or if I
was thinking at all. I was feeling sorry for myself about the way my life has turned out and I felt like I needed something
to validate me. The only thing I have to show is Xavier. And I guess I wanted to hurt you for leaving me. You told me you’d
never leave.”

“And you told me you’d never hit me.”

“I know.” He looked away and then back at her. “I’m dropping the court case. You’re a good mother. You’re doing a good job.
I’m sorry for this whole court thing and for not supporting you financially.” He held his head down again. “I was so concerned
about what you’d do with the money I should’ve sent that I could never send it. Again, I was just wanting you to hurt. I know
this is not much, but I want to give you this.” He pulled his checkbook from his back pocket and tore out a check he had already
filled in. “This is just a thousand dollars. I plan to send more after all of Momma’s affairs are settled.”

“Why are you doing all this? Why now? I mean, getting saved, apologizing, giving me money? Why couldn’t you do this two years
ago? When I needed you?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to. I don’t know.” He wiped her tears with his hand. “I love you. I know that this is all a shock.
But I want to give you seven days to think about something. I don’t want you to answer now. You have until next Tuesday to
decide.”

“What?”

“Please consider remarrying me.”

Her tears came too fast for him to wipe her face dry. “What about Shawanda? Don’t you two have a daughter together?”

A scowl came across his face. “No! That’s her daughter by another man. I was just with her trying to deny the pain I felt
for not being with you.” He received her when she slid closer to hug him. They sat there in silence and awe for at least a
half an hour. When they finally started talking again they talked about the desire they used to share about relocating to
New York. They both agreed they needed a new start.

CHARITY WAS STILL ON CLOUD NINE
from her meeting with Emmitt when her phone rang. She assumed it was him so she didn’t look at the caller ID.

“Hello?” she answered pleasantly.

“Hey, Charity, it’s Sharon. I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

She’d been meaning to call Sharon but did not know how she would receive her. “It’s good to hear from you, too. I’ve been
wanting to call but I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable.”

“I felt the same way about calling you. I—”

“Sharon, I don’t mean to interrupt but I need to thank you. Thank you for saving my life. The paramedics say if you hadn’t
called when you did, I would have been dead within five minutes.”

Sharon sighed. “That was no one but God. I wasn’t even supposed to be there that morning. One of the persons who mans the
phones on Tuesday mornings called in sick. They called me at the last minute and asked me to man the phone for a few hours.
I’m an intern there.”

“How did you recognize my voice?”

“I wasn’t really sure but it was like something told me who you were before I even recognized it.”

“I just thank God through you. Because of y’all I’m doing well. I’m taking time to think about what I’m going to do. I know
you’ve heard about Present Day closing?”

“That’s talk of the town until another tragedy comes along. Are you going to open another practice?”

“I don’t know. I’m receiving some unexpected money and I’m considering working in the ministry full-time.”

“That’s wonderful. Not to change the subject, but besides finding out how you were doing, I wanted to see what your plans
are for this weekend. I need a road buddy.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Kentucky to see my brother.”

Charity didn’t know if she should go since she was considering Emmitt’s proposal, but she was eager to meet her brother in
the Lord. “Uuuuh. I want to go.” She paused. “But, I don’t know. Does he know about what I did?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Bless you, you’re a sweetheart. Anybody else would’ve told the whole town by now.” They both laughed. “I do want to go.”
Charity looked for an inconvenience, “What time are you leaving?”

“Visiting is Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, from eight in the morning to three. I’m off on Friday so we can travel that morning,
rest up that evening, see him on Saturday, and head back home.”

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday. Does he know you’re asking me to come?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m coming.”

“That’s even better, count me in. Let me make all of my arrangements and I’ll call you back later tonight.”

The bags under her eyes were proof of Charity’s exhaustion. The seven-hour trip kicked her behind, and if she had known that
Kentucky was covered in snow, she wouldn’t have come.

“It can’t be time to wake up,” Sharon said without even rolling over.

Charity stepped away from the mirrored sink and looked back at the clock on the nightstand. “No, it’s five ten. I just can’t
sleep.”

“Girl, I’ll sleep for the both of us. I’m tired. Get me up at seven.”

“Okay,” Charity said simply. She wished she could crawl back into bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. Her mind was too preoccupied
with meeting Joseph. Why was she even here? she wondered. What was he like? What would he think about her? What would they
do or talk about from 8:00 to 3:00? She was getting anxious just thinking about it all.

She retrieved her Bible from her duffel bag and went into the bathroom. She closed the lid and sat on the toilet. “Lord,”
she prayed. “I thank You for this day, and for its mercies. Thank You for going before me today and accomplishing Your will.
I will not be anxious or fearful. What can man do to me?” Scripture began to ring up out of her heart. “Fear of a man will
prove to be a snare, but my hope is in You. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, and my soul knoweth that full well. Give
me wisdom, Father God, to know how to handle every situation. I thank You in advance for hearing and answering my prayer.
It is with Jesus’ name that I can do all things. Amen.” She flipped through the pages of her New International version, desiring
to read from the Book of Psalms. She turned through them, passing her favorites but stopped at Psalms 107. She figured she
stopped because she was wasting time, but when she got to verse ten, she knew that it was referring to Joseph. “Some sat in
darkness and the deepest gloom, prisoners suffering in iron chains, for they had rebelled against the words of God and despised
the counsel of the Most High. So He subjected them to bitter labor; they stumbled, and there was no one to help.” She reread
the passage. “What are you trying to say Holy Spirit?” she asked aloud. She kept reading. “Then they cried to the Lord in
their trouble and He saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away
their chains.”

“This is about Joseph, isn’t it?” She felt a confirmed yes in her heart. She continued to ask questions about him and learned
that Joseph was one of God’s favored and that his imprisonment could be used for good and to further God’s Kingdom. She also
repented for holding him in contempt because of his situation. Although she and Joseph had exchanged only two letters apiece,
she felt assured through Scripture that he would be released soon.

Charity didn’t know what to do with the “information” she now had. Maybe she and Joseph would work together in the ministry,
or maybe God would use her to minister to him, or something. Whatever God had in store for her to do with Joseph, she asked
Him to reveal it today during their meeting. She was confident that He would.

By the time Charity finished her shower and left the bathroom, Sharon was already up. “I thought I was going to have to come
in there after you,” Sharon joked.

“Second to God, the bathroom is my refuge. It’s the only place I can go without Xavier.”

“He’s so cute. I told you he should be on TV or in magazines somewhere modeling.”

“You and everyone else. I guess I’m waiting for someone to come up to us and give us a contract.”

They laughed. Sharon went into the bathroom, and Charity carried her duffel bag to the bed, where she poured out her toiletries.
She put on some deodorant and lotion, and thought of putting on a CD. Sharon had brought
Go Get Your Life Back
by Donald Lawrence and played it for most of the road trip. Charity had fallen in love with the two versions of “Bless Me”
(“Prayer of Jabez”) and “Seasons.” She played Lawrence’s solo “Bless Me” track.

While Lawrence repeatedly pleaded for God to enlarge his territory, Charity, clad only in her underwear and pantyhose, found
herself kneeling before God with tears in her eyes, and her hands outstretched toward the ceiling. She and Lawrence poured
their hearts out together on two more rounds of the same song before she got up to finish getting dressed.

Charity was dressed when Sharon rejoined her in the room. “You like that song don’t you?”

“It’s beautiful. It’s a good worship song.”

“You’re right about that. ‘Seasons’ is my favorite though. We sing it at my church.”

“I’ll play it for you.”

They talked and sang as Sharon got dressed and Charity put on her makeup. “You always look so put together,” Sharon told her.

“Chile, trying to be perfect and trying to control everything is what landed my behind in that hospital bed. But thank you
anyway.”

“I understand exactly what you’re saying. There’s a difference. Sometimes I think we Christians get it all wrong. We’re already
made in His image, the problem comes when we try to fit into the image, not even knowing we’re already there. I forget how
I heard this, or where I heard it, but I heard this man say, ‘It’s not that we are humans trying to learn how to be Christians,
but that we’re Christians learning to live as humans.’ That has always stuck with me. I don’t have to be no more than who
I am made to be.”