Redemption Lake (9 page)

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Authors: Monique Miller

BOOK: Redemption Lake
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Phillip had learned the hard way that secrets shouldn't be kept from the ones loved most. He'd kept a secret about a son he'd fathered in college from Shelby, and the past literally ended up knocking on the front door of their home one evening.
Phillip shook his head, not wanting to remember that dismal time in their lives—a time when he almost lost his family forever due to his deceptiveness. He tried not to dwell on the negativity he experienced during that time. By the grace of God, his marriage had been saved. And because of that storm in his life, he was now standing in front of three couples that needed not just counseling, but someone who had once walked in their shoes.
“You all have brought up some very good reasons as to why people may have love misunderstandings. There is no right or wrong answer. It just depends on the couple and situation,” Phillip said.
Phillip erased the board and wrote the word
communication
. “Communication is key when it comes to understanding others. Not just verbal communication, but non-verbal communication as well.”
George and Beryl nodded their heads adamantly in agreement.
“Let me share some knowledge about love language skills. Maybe you'll be able to use some of these skills to bandage any love misunderstandings you may have,” Phillip said. “As we go along, please feel free to take notes and ask questions. You don't have to wait until the session is over.”
With his coaxing them to take notes, each person located the notepad in their packets and readied their pens.
“First let's talk about verbal communication. When you think about verbal communication, what comes to mind?” Phillip asked.
“Very simple,” Beryl said. “Talking to someone and making your thoughts known.”
“Right,” Phillip said. “And what else?”
Beryl didn't have anything else to add to her comment. Charlotte spoke instead. “Verbal communication can be affected not only by the words a person chooses to use, but also by the tone a person speaks in.”
“You are correct also,” Phillip said, glad to have so much increased participation from the group. “In addition to tone, there are non-verbal actions which often negate what's being said. “For example ... ” Phillip stopped speaking, and in a swift movement, he stood behind Shelby and hooked his arm around her neck in a headlock, acting as if he were going to choke her.
The women jumped in their seats in surprise. The men's eyes widened at the display.
Phillip smiled, and in a calm loving tone said, “If I told you right now that I love my wife unconditionally and would never harm a hair on her head, would you believe me?”
“Nope,” Travis said.
Phillip released Shelby's head and gave her shoulders a tight squeeze. “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah. Thanks for forewarning me about your experiment, or else I might have elbowed you or something,” Shelby said.
“So as you can see, actions speak louder than words. Even though I was syrupy sweet with my words, the choking didn't make me too believable.”
“Um-huh.” Beryl heartily nodded in agreement.
“So the words we use and how we use them can make the difference between our loved one fully understanding our true feelings or intentions. But they can also contribute to a love misunderstanding if there is a conflicting tone and/or body language associated with what we are saying.”
Beryl looked at her husband, Travis. Her non-verbal stare said that she'd been through similar displays many times before.
Chapter 9
Travis Highgate
Monday: 3:29
P.M
.
In their bedroom during their free time, Travis attempted to hug Beryl, but she pushed him away. “Beryl, honey, will you please sit down for a moment so we can talk? Can I show you my love language abilities?” Travis was referring to the seven love language skills Phillip had taught them in their most recent session.
“Travis, weren't you listening at all during the last session?” Beryl huffed in exasperation.
“Yeah, I was listening. I heard everything Phillip said.”
Beryl was always accusing him of not paying attention. So he decided to prove to her that he had been listening in the previous session. He rattled off the list of things he'd memorized. “There are seven different ways people show their love to others: words, touch, serving, quality time, gifts, providing physical wellbeing, and making a special opportunity.” Travis grinned wide, showing his crooked teeth. He was proud of himself for memorizing the list in such a short time.
“Umph,” Beryl said. “I guess you were listening.”
He took Beryl's hand and pulled her over to his twin bed. “See, baby. So please just sit down for a second so we can talk.”
Even though there was reluctance in her eyes, Beryl did as Travis requested and sat down next to him. He then turned toward her, taking her hands into his.
“Baby, don't you see how committed I am? You asked me to come up here with you for this retreat, and I did. And let me tell you, I can already see that we don't need this counseling.” Travis looked deep into Beryl's eyes. “I know things haven't been the best lately, but we don't need someone else telling us how we can get our relationship back on track,” Travis said.
Beryl pulled away. “Travis—”
“Baby, let me talk.” Travis pulled her back, squeezing her hands as he pleaded.
She pursed her lips together and allowed him to speak.
“I know what your concerns are, and I promise to try even harder to find a job when I get back home. And I am going to try to do better with helping out around the house and with the kids. Baby, I promise I'll do better about keeping the grass cut.” As Travis spoke, he felt his words must have been getting through to his wife. Tears welled up in her eyes. He took this as a good sign.
“So baby, I know you spent a lot of money for us to come here,” Travis told her. “And since you're already off for the rest of the week, I guess we can stay and just consider this a long overdue, well deserved vacation.” He smiled. He and Beryl were going to be able to get things back on track. He would do better at home, and Beryl would once again be proud of him.
He looked over toward the other twin bed that sat against the opposite wall. “And why don't we go ahead and push these beds together? I've missed you, baby.”
Travis missed his wife so very much. He'd missed the way they used to talk about simple things like their favorite TV shows. He missed the way they used to hold hands whenever they were out in public walking around—be it at the park, in the mall, or even in the grocery store. But most of all he missed the oneness a husband and wife should have behind closed doors in the bedroom.
It started off with her coming up with excuses as to why she didn't feel like making love to him. Then one day she told him straight out, that if he didn't do better around the house and start bringing in some money, he wouldn't ever feel her warmth next to him in the bed. After that, it was as if there was an imaginary line drawn down the middle of their queen size bed, and he knew not to cross it.
Beryl started to laugh again, this time pulling away completely. She stood and started pacing the room. “You just don't get it do you?”
“Huh?” Travis asked.
“When in the heck are you going to get a clue? Is this all just a game to you?” Beryl hit her forehead with the palms of her hands. “You're serious, aren't you?” She laughed again, looking up toward the ceiling.
Travis sat looking at Beryl with bewilderment. What in the world was she talking about?
“Darn it! Once again I've wasted my hard earned money on you.” She shook her head, continuing to look up at the ceiling. “Now tell me again what we talked about in the session today?” Beryl asked.
Travis thought about the list he'd memorized earlier, and he rattled off only six of the seven things. And after a couple of uncomfortable moments, he finally remembered the one he'd forgotten. Again he smiled at himself.
“No, Travis, not the list of skills. Tell me about the skills.”
Travis hadn't really paid attention to the specifics of any of the skills. He was so determined to remember the list.
Beryl folded her arms impatiently as she waited for an answer. “You don't know the answer, so forget that question. How about if you tell me what love language skill I prefer?”
Again Travis was a loss for words. He didn't really have an idea. But he was tired of Beryl looking at him like he was a dunce. So he picked out the first one that came to his head and said, “Quality Time.”
“No, Travis. And I won't waste my time asking you to guess again, because that's all you are doing is guessing. You'd know if you were really listening this afternoon, instead of trying to memorize some list to impress me. It doesn't impress me. The sad thing is you really only had to remember two things on that list.” Beryl held her index finger up and said, “First, the skill of providing physical wellbeing.” She stared at him like
that
was supposed to jar his memory. Then she held up her middle finger along with her index finger. “And second, the skill of words. Does either one of those two things mean anything to you?”
He still didn't know what Beryl was talking about. Now he wished he had paid a little more attention. Inwardly he chastised himself.
Without waiting for a response, Beryl continued. “Well, once again, let me school you a little bit, since for some reason, you missed what everybody else heard. Everyone else in that room knows what my preferred love language skill is. I wouldn't want you to feel left out.”
Travis wasn't sure, but he felt a twinge of sarcasm in his wife's last statement.
“You prefer to use the speaking of words as your love language skill when it comes to our relationship,” Beryl said. “And here's the newsflash. I am sick and tired of hearing your words. I can't believe a thing you say. You'll say anything to try to appease me and anyone else who'll listen, and I am tired of it.”
Then Beryl deepened her voice as if to mimic Travis's voice. “I'm gonna get a job, baby; I promise. I'm gonna keep this job; I promise. Baby, it wasn't my fault they fired me.” Then she returned her voice to normal. “It's baby this and baby that. If it isn't lies about you trying to find or keep a job, you're lying about why something doesn't get done around the house.”
Travis spoke up. “If you're talking about the grass not being cut last week, you know the lawnmower was out of gas. And you also know that since you had the car at work that day, I couldn't get to the station to get more gas.”
“That was Tuesday. What about the rest of the week? What's your excuse for that?” Beryl asked.
“Well, ah, let's see. On Wednesday, I uh—”
Beryl spoke again. “And that's not the worst of it. When I do catch you in a lie, you want to play word games. Forget it. Whether it's more lies or excuses, I don't want to hear them. Bottom line is the grass still hasn't been cut, and by the time we get back, the house will probably look like it needs to be condemned. I just pray our landlord hasn't put another note on our door threatening us.”
“Come on, baby, I'm not trying to come up with excuses. I was just giving you the reason why the grass hadn't been cut yet. And don't worry about the landlord. I called him before we left and assured him that as soon as we get back, I'll be cutting the grass. It's all under control,” Travis said, stretching the truth a little.
“Oh really? Is that the truth or are you just lying to make yourself look good?” Beryl said.
“I'm not lying.” Travis rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he spoke. She was always catching him in lies and exaggerations. He wondered how she was always able to do so.
Travis had no idea why he lied so much. For some reason, the lies and embellishments just flowed from his mouth as freely as the air that came through his nostrils.
“Well, I hope you are telling the truth, because if I do find out you're lying—” She stopped mid-sentence and shook her head. “Maybe it won't even matter. We're a long way from Sunday, and you're failing to show me you really want things to work between us.”
“Come on, baby, give me a chance,” Travis said.
“I've given you chance and chance again. Most other women would have probably left you already. But no. Stupid, trusting me just keep on thinking things are going to get better and that one day, you'll do the right thing.”
“I am going to do better. You might not believe it right now, but I'm going to show you; just believe me,” Travis said, pleading.
“Words again? Wah, wah, wah, you sound like the teacher off of the Charlie Brown cartoon,” Beryl said.
Travis was tired of hearing all the complaining. “That's all I've got right now, baby, so you'll just have to trust me.”
“See, that's the problem, all you've got are your words; words I haven't been able to trust in years. And while you're using your empty words to try and convenience me, what I really need is for you to provide a physical wellbeing for me and the kids.” Beryl's eyes began to well with tears. “You know I've only given birth to two children, but for the past few years I've felt like I actually have three.”
“Huh? What's that supposed to mean?” Travis asked.
Beryl started pacing. “It means it feels like I have to treat you like a child. I have to think for you, remind you to do things, pay for your food and shelter, and even wake you up when you've overslept. Some days I can't even distinguish you from the kids.” Beryl's face was now streaming with tears. “I need you to take care of me and the kids. I need you to be the man of our household. I need to feel secure knowing I can lean and depend on you. But at this point, I don't feel that way.”
“How are you going to say that Beryl? I'm not a child.” Travis couldn't believe she had just compared him to a child. “I carry my weight when I can. But it's hard out here for a black man. I can't help it when a company downsizes and decides to fire people.”
Beryl stared at him. She threw her hands up and headed for the bathroom. Travis saw her pull tissue off the roll and wipe her face. Then she turned and left the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Travis called out saying, “Beryl, you can't just run away. We need to finish our conversation.”

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