Preacher's Wifey (18 page)

“The agreement was not set up for change. He asked me plainly if I could live the rest of my life according to that contract, and I said yes. He even gave me thirty full days to think about it before I signed it, followed by another thirty days to cancel for whatever reason. Once the engagement was announced, there was supposed to be no turning back. There was no way of escape.”

“There is always a way of escape. We just have to pray and ask God to show us what it is. There has to be a way for you to get out of this.”

“I know,” I said, defeated. It was all so depressing to me. I hoped that I could think of a way soon, because there was no way I could go another year like this. No. There was no way I could go another month like this. Something had to give. “Maybe I will reach out to Seth and see if he has any suggestions. However it goes down, it will not be pretty.”

“Maybe we can just arrange for Seth to come and kidnap you. You said yourself that Carson Land was out in the middle of nowhere. So if he comes and takes you there, who would find you?”

“Girl, his little nosy estate manager, Melanie, would be in all kinds of knots. It would not take a full hour for her to announce to the world where I was—especially in the case of a kidnapping. Not only is she a problem, but she is cool with his grandmother's nurse. I am sure at some point I would have to go and get his grandmother or something, and that nurse would sing like a canary.”

“But if he knew the circumstances, I am certain he would ensure you never had to leave the land for anything. He sounds like the type of man who would love nothing more than losing himself in his own man-made world. He would probably build whatever was necessary in order to make sure you were safe and that nobody would find or bother you. Your mom and friends would have to have a secret chip placed in their hands or something to be identified when they came for a visit.”

“You are so dumb, Kristal!” I shrieked. “Where do you get this stuff from? What in God's name have you been watching on television? You talking about me arranging my own kidnapping to go and live on a farm—basically disappear from plain view—all because I am trying to finagle my way out of a marriage.” I got up from the table and went inside to the kitchen. She followed behind me. “You are something else. People only feel the need to plan their own kidnapping, Kristal, when they feel threatened by someone. Byran would never touch me, but I am trying to figure out a way to leave whereby his reputation will not be tarnished, and I won't have a lawsuit or have my life played out in the media.”

“The media? You think the media will care?”

“What!” I exclaimed. “Yes, of course they will care. Even if we did not get national media attention, we would surely get local attention. Byran is young, successful, and he pastors a mega church. If this is not handled perfectly, as I already said, it could be the end of his pastoral career. No one wants to hire a pastor whose name is attached to any type of scandal or disgrace.”

“As far as I am concerned, he took that chance when he got Shatrice pregnant.”

“I agree with you.”

I sat down in one of the chairs at my bar and began peeling an orange. I popped a slice into my mouth and started thinking of all the possible divorce scenarios and their ramifications. Even if my name was sent through the public's shredder, I could recover from that. I was not a public figure outside of being married to Byran, so what harm could it do to me? The only person who would be affected would be him. The question was . . . did I care enough to care at all?

“I am going to call Byran and see if we can work this out.”

“Good luck with that. Anybody who has been as selfish as he has been doesn't strike me as the compromising type. But prayer changes things, right?”

“Right.”

Kristal checked her cell phone. “Honey, chile, I gotta run. I have a hot date tonight.”

“With who? You mean to tell me you sat here and let me dish out all my dirt and you held back on me?”

“Your life is much more interesting than mine.”

“I still want to know what's going on with you. Who is the hot date of yours?”

“You remember Popeye from high school?”

“Are you talking about Popeye with the pop eyes?”

“Allyson, he does not have pop eyes!”

“Yes, he does have pop eyes. He looks as if something has him caught off guard at all times.” I demonstrated how his eyes looked, and she fell over on the bar, laughing so hard.

“All right, all right. His eyes are big. But his heart is bigger, and it's about the heart, right? He is such a good man.”

I snickered. “If you like it, I love it. Whatever floats your boat, I am cool with it. One good thing about dating a man with big eyes is that it does not matter where you are headed in life. He will see it.” She playfully slapped me on the arms. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“You are dead wrong for that. You know he can't help his eyes are like that. He was born that way,” she said, sounding serious. This time I fell across the bar, laughing. “Besides, you didn't hear me talking about blind Bartimaeus when you were dating him.”

I hollered. “Hunter Ingram was not blind—well, not totally blind, anyway. He was really cute without those bifocals.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes laughing at the defects of our former boyfriends before Kristal took off to meet her big-eyed man. I did not know how much I had missed having girl talk—something she and I used to do on a weekly basis before Byran came into my life and consumed all my time. Until now, I had failed to pay attention to the fact that somehow in the midst of me merging my world with Byran's, he had become my world and I had lost myself in the process.

But it was time for all of that to change. Seth had long ago challenged me to begin making my own decisions, and that was exactly what I planned to do from this day forward. No one—including Byran—was going to stand in my way.

I turned right on Baker Street Northwest and pulled into the parking lot of the Hilton Garden Inn. I was meeting Mom for lunch at Legal Sea Foods—one of my all-time favorite restaurants.

“Mrs. Ward, where have you been? I haven't seen you in a few weeks,” said Merlo, the West Indian valet attendant. “I missed you around this place.”

He was such the charmer. “Been missing you too, Merlo. I promise to do better, okay?”

“All right now, I am going to hold you to that. I need to see your beautiful face at least once a week.”

“Gotcha.”

“Oh, and Mrs. Ward?”

“Yes, Merlo?”

“Please don't tell Pastor Ward I talk like this. He got my buddy fired for complimenting you.”

“Is that what happened to Simeon?”

“Yes, ma'am. But he meant no harm by anything he said. He would never disrespect you.”

I could not believe Byran had someone fired from his job for something so trivial.

“Give me your boss's number, Merlo. I am going to put in a call to him and see if I can get Simeon's job back.”

“Oh, Mrs. Ward, he would be so happy. He has four children, and his wife doesn't work. He really needs a job, Mrs. Ward. He would probably kiss your feet if you were able to do something.”

“I will do anything I can to help.”

“Thank you, ma'am. Enjoy your lunch.”

“I will.”

I headed inside and got on the elevator to go up to the second floor, where the main dining room was. I could already taste the famous crab soup that I was going to order, along with the Louisiana Catfish Matrimony, mashed sweet potatoes, and braised greens. I had skipped breakfast so I could have a big lunch, and I was going to savor every bite of it.

The elevator door opened on the second floor, and Amy, the manager, greeted me. She was always so accommodating and treated me and my guests like royalty.

“Mrs. Ward, it is so good to see you. How is Pastor?”

“He is well. I will let him know you asked about him.”

“Please do. We miss seeing him around here too. Well, let me take you over here to your table. Your mom and dad are already seated.”

“Excuse me? Did you say my mom
and
dad?”

“Mmm-hmm. They have been here about ten minutes.”

Unbeknownst to Amy, I was fuming. I had planned to have lunch with my mother and her alone. She never once mentioned my father would be joining us.

I walked up to the table, and my father stood to greet me.

“You all enjoy your lunch,” Amy said as she walked away.

“Baby girl, you look radiant today,” my father said. I could tell he was nervous, unsure how I was getting ready to respond.

“Absolutely stunning,” my mother added, piggybacking her compliment on my father's.

“Thank you,” I said dryly.

I sat down and took a sip of the water that was on the table to wash down the choice words I wanted to spew out at my parents for not telling me we would be having a “family” reunion.

Angela, my favorite waitress, came and took our order. Seeing that I ordered the same thing almost every time, when she came for the order, she already had my crab soup with no parsley ready and steaming hot for me. I could have hugged her for this today because it gave me something to focus on other than my parents sitting across the table as a couple.

I grabbed one of the rolls, spread butter on it, and dipped it in my soup.

“Darling, are we going to sit here in silence for the entire lunch?” my mother asked.

“I don't know, Mother. Perhaps you can tell me since this event is your brainchild.”

“Actually, this was my idea,” my father said, speaking up.

Now, that surprised me. My dad was like me in that he was not too fond of surprises. Masterminding this little surprise lunch was a departure from his typical behavior.

“May I ask why no one deemed it necessary to let me in on this? I mean, do I not have a right to know that I would be having lunch with
both
of my parents?”

“Does it make a difference? You do love us the same, correct?”

My dad's tone suggested he was attempting to pull rank, which was not the best thing to do right now.

“If you thought it did not make a difference, then why didn't one of you inform me this was taking place? Because the truth is, you knew it would make a difference. You knew I would be opposed to it, and that is why you let me walk into this ambush.”

“Ambush? Allyson, you are taking this a bit too far, dear,” Mom said.

“You all sneaking around and tricking me into having lunch is too far, Mother.”

Angela came back with our drinks, and once again I was grateful for her. I was getting ready to say more than I ought to say.

When Angela walked away again, my dad continued. “Sweetheart, we wanted to talk to you . . . together. We knew that if we had told you prior to you getting here, you would not have come. Your mother told me about the conversation the two of you had the other day, and I felt it was time that we sat down like a family and discussed some things.”

Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .
I had to count down to calm myself.
Like a family?

“Dad, I mean this with the utmost respect. We are not
like
a family. We are
not
a family. In case you have forgotten, you left our family to go and be with Melissa and the family you made with her. Have you any idea how you hurt Mom? Me? Have you any idea how we struggled when you first left? Before you decided you wanted to send something our way?”

I paused to give him time to respond. He remained quiet.

“You were not the one who had to watch Mom try to drown her memories of you with bottles and bottles of Riesling and white zinfandel. It was me, Dad. I had to watch her. You were not there when she was struggling to keep the lights on, working here and there, practically begging for money so we would not be in the dark and so we would have food in the refrigerator. When you walked out on us to hold on to what you had with that other woman, we were the ones left to suffer. We barely had a car to ride in, and Mom struggled to work because she could not find anyone to watch me, so many days I had to stay at home by myself because she could not afford to send me to a babysitter.

“So don't you dare sit here in my face twentysomething-odd years later and tell me you want to sit down
like a family
and discuss anything. As far as I am concerned, we do not have a family. I love you and I love Mom, but as I told Mom, she would be a fool to listen to anything you say in reference to why you left us that day. Nothing stopped you from coming back home to us. Matter of fact, I heard Mom a few times asking you—practically begging you—to come home. But you chose to stay where you were. So now that things have fallen apart where you are, you want to come back to the woman you knew loved you no matter what you did?”

I must have been talking louder than I realized, because I looked around and people had begun to stare in our direction. It was not my intent to air our dirty laundry in a restaurant, but his comment had triggered something in me. Flashbacks of Byran telling me he was in love with another woman at the restaurant in the Bahamas surfaced.

“I am glad you shared that with me. I never knew how you felt.”

“You never asked, Dad.”

“Let me say this. You have every right to feel the way you do, Allyson. I made some very immature decisions when I was younger. I gave up what I knew was real in order to chase a wild fetish that was not real. It was good for a while, but the older I got, the more I longed for the authentic. The type of love that was pure up until I contaminated it with my buffoonery. I honestly ran because I did not want to face the mess I had made. With Melissa, she was a part of the mess, and two messy people together seemed like the best thing for me.

“I stayed gone because I never thought your mother would truly love me again the way she had loved me before I messed over her heart. I thought if I treated her like crap she would move on . . . but even to this day she never did. So when I saw her at the church that night, I knew it was a sign from God. I knew it was my second chance at finally loving her—loving you—the way I knew I could. The way I wanted to. The way you both deserved.”

Saved by Angela. That girl was like an angel—she appeared at the perfect moments. She placed our entrées on the table, and instead of resuming the conversation, we sat in silence and ate our lunch. The food was delectable, as usual, but no matter how much I tried to, I could not enjoy it as much I usually did. Seafood and tired excuses from a runaway husband did not mix well.

My mother finally broke the awkward silence. “Allyson, how is Byran? He called me a few days ago and asked me to talk to you. He wants you to reconsider the divorce.”

“That is not going to happen.” I shoved sweet potatoes in my mouth.

“I see. Have you at least tried to talk it over with him?”

“What is there to talk about? I am not going to be like you. I refuse to live another day of my life unhappy because I have given someone the power to control my happiness. I will not find myself in my fifties, waiting for him to have a Damascus road experience and come back apologizing for all the years of my life he wasted trying to make himself love me. I would rather find true love now. I would rather find someone who would prefer to die with me than live a single day on earth without me.”

She lowered her head as my words sank in. I think she was beginning to see that her hold on me was loosening. Nonetheless, it was strange to see her cower so easily. I was accustomed to my mother being much more feisty, controlling, and aggressive. I was not sure if I liked this new persona she wore. I sat back in my chair and observed both her and my dad. It seemed as if his presence soothed her. She had a new glow, one that I could not recall ever seeing. It was almost tangible. Was that what love looked like?

“Ally, we are not expecting you to embrace the idea of us getting back together immediately. We both understand your perspective on it. However, when you get to be our age, you fully learn the lesson you seem to have already learned on your own. We now realize we took for granted something we can never get back—time. I, for one, do not want to waste another day saying ‘What if?' and ‘I wonder why.' I want to live fully and completely happy.” He turned to look Mom in the eyes. “And your mother makes me both complete and happy.”

Mom looked as though she was smitten. A girlish grin turned the corners of her mouth.

“How is Mom supposed to feel secure in what you are saying, Dad? What if you wake up one morning and realize you two really are two different people and she does not make you as happy as she is making you now? Who will be there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart this time? Who will dry her tears this time?”

“I trust your father,” my mom said. “I know he is not a perfect man, and I do not expect him to be. We have both changed and are not the same people we were twenty years ago. We have both grown up and do not have time to play the games we used to play with our hearts. As your dad said, we are now on the other side of time, and it does neither of us any good to waste it.”

I pretended to play an invisible violin. “That's sweet.” I wiped my mouth with the linen napkin. “I wish the two of you the best remaining years of your life.” I signaled for Angela to come to the table. “Can you bring the check, please?”

“Okay, Mrs. Ward. Will it all be on one check?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

She left to go and get the ticket.

“Allyson, you do not have to take care of ours,” Dad said.

“Dad, I cannot speak for your financial situation because I do not know what you have or do not have. But as for Mom, I am quite certain she is running pretty low. I have not made a deposit into her account in a couple of weeks, and the way Mom loves to shop and spend money, I am sure that money is already gone.”

“Well, I am back now. You do not have to take care of your mother anymore. That is my job,” he insisted.

“It has been my job for quite some time now. Mom got hurt on a job more than ten years ago and was not able to work again. It has been my doing that she lives the lifestyle she lives. Mom has now learned to appreciate the finer things in life, and I seriously doubt she is willing to digress to average.” I pulled out my credit card. “Go ahead, Mom. Tell him. Tell him that you are addicted to shopping sprees, designer labels, fine dining, and yearly vacations. Tell him how happy you get when you get to a perfume counter and a new fragrance is out. So I hate to break it to you, Dad, but she has become extremely high maintenance over the years.”

“I have changed,” my mom said quietly.

“Ha!” I said too loudly. Mom was on a roll today. “Mom, are you serious? You mean to tell me you have given up your love for expensive things too? Wow, this has been a very enlightening day.”

Angela came, delivered the check, and took my credit card. I pretended to be occupied with something on my phone, but I peered across the table at them again, and a certain sense of sadness washed over me. They looked as if they had found the missing piece to each of their puzzles, but I was sad because they had allowed twenty years to go by being too stubborn to try to finish what their love had started. As I continued to examine them, I watched their body language. Mom brushed something off of Dad's face, as if she had never stopped doing it. He pushed hair out of her face, as if he had been doing it all along. I had to admit they seemed happy together.