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Authors: Kendra Norman-Bellamy

The Morning After (6 page)

BOOK: The Morning After
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“No, Elaine.” Angel's voice had become stern again. “Don't you even let that come out of your mouth. You can't allow wicked thoughts like that to enter your mind, and you definitely can't let them slip from your tongue.”
Elaine hung her head, and her words were only slightly above a whisper. “God must hate me right now, but I'm only being honest about how I feel.”
“Look at me, Elaine.” Angel used her hand to force Elaine to look into her eyes. “I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't tell you the truth, and I love you too much to stand idly by and watch you do this to yourself. What you're feeling is very normal, okay? God doesn't hate you. The flesh has desires, and God made it so that it would—it's natural. And you know what else? The Bible tells us that our flesh is always at war with our spirit, which means that we'll always be tempted to do wrong, but it's up to us to do right. If we fall, God is faithful, and He's there to forgive us. But we don't have to fall. I'm here for you, Elaine, and anytime you need someone to talk to, you can call me. We live two streets from each other, so you can come by and we can pray together whenever you need. But I don't ever want you to allow those words that almost came out of your mouth just now to reach the tip of your tongue again. Do you hear me?”
Two fresh tears—one from each eye—fell onto Elaine's cheeks, but it was her silence that was the most troubling for Angel. Essie had always said that silence was a calm, unspoken consent. But in this case, Angel wasn't so sure.
Chapter 6
Jennifer's Story
“I'm almost ready, Jerrod,” she called to her son. Seeing that she hadn't yet decided upon which outfit she would wear to church this Sunday, Jennifer immediately realized that her pacifying answer to his fourth call to her was far from the truth.
Normally, it was she who would be waiting for Jerrod to finish getting ready. Countless times, Jennifer had impatiently stood at the front door or sat in the driver's seat of her car wondering what on earth could a fifteen-year-old boy have to do that required so much time. If they were late to Sunday morning worship today, Jennifer would have no one to blame but herself.
Standing half-dressed and with her hands perched on her hips, the thirty-one-year-old single mother looked over the two garments that had made it to the final round of her decision making process. It would be a toss up between the tangerine dress and the beige pants suit. But, as pretty as both of them were, neither seemed eye-catching enough to wear to T.K.'s church. Not that the people at her boyfriend's church were any more refined or well-to-do than the folks at Temple of God's Word. In fact, neither the church nor its members had very much to do with Jennifer's dilemma. It was T.K. Every time she was in his presence, Jennifer felt the need to be her best self. For the first time in her life, she was dating a man who treated her like she meant more to him than what she could give him. T.K. was the best man she'd ever known, and because of that, he made her want to be a better woman.
“The dress,” Jennifer said, making her decision vocal.
From somewhere in the front of the house, Jerrod hollered, “Ma, can I—?”
“No.” She didn't see a need in letting him finish the request. Ever since turning fifteen six months ago, Jerrod, without a permit to legitimize or legalize his desires, had asked her at least one hundred times if he could drive her car. Jennifer's intuition told her that she'd just cut off request number one hundred one.
With her dress finally on, Jennifer slipped her feet into sandals that maximized the splendor of her fresh pedicure, and then paused to take a long look at herself in the full length mirror that was attached to the back of her bedroom's door. Using her fingers as a makeshift comb, Jennifer gently raked through her hair to revitalize the curls that had been disturbed when she pulled her dress over her head. In her reflection, she spotted a flash from the birthstone ring that she always wore on her left hand. Hastily, Jennifer removed it from her finger and placed it in the jewelry box that sat on the edge of her dresser.
“You'll feel naked, but only for a little while.” She spoke the words to her finger as though it were a person, and then giggled at her own silliness.
When T.K. was leaving Jennifer's house on Friday night after sharing dinner with her and Jerrod, he whispered in her ear that he had a surprise for her and wanted to take both her and her son out to dinner on Sunday to present it.
“You sure you want Jerrod there?” she'd asked, her heart racing with anticipation.
“Yes,” T.K. replied, still whispering and sending mounting chills down Jennifer's back. “This is big news and it involves him too.”
Even now, as Jennifer recounted the moment, she found it difficult not to jump up and down with excitement. This was a moment that she'd dreamed about since she was a little girl, playing dress-up in her room to keep herself entertained while her parents had some petty, but loud disagreement somewhere down the hall. Jennifer would put on her best Sunday dress—the one her grandmother had made for her—and stand in front of the mirror holding plastic flowers; pretending that she was about to walk down the aisle to marry the man who would rescue her from her horrendous existence. It had been a long wait, but she could feel it in her bones; her Prince Charming was about to make his majestic entrance. And even though she'd risen from the life of poverty and abuse and made something of herself despite the statistics, Jennifer would still be ready to ride away into the sunset with T.K.
“Mrs. T.K. Donaldson,” she whispered, rubbing her ring finger with gentle strokes. Jennifer used her fingers to silence the tears that screamed to be released from her eyes. She had to hold it together. When T.K. proposed to her today, she had to maintain a look of surprise. It wouldn't be right for T.K. to know that she'd already figured out his plan.
Men are so transparent.
She grinned at her own thought.
“Okay. One last look and I've got to get out of here.” Jennifer wasn't totally satisfied with the image that stared back at her, but she was out of time. The church that T.K. attended was one of Atlanta's most popular, and on Sunday mornings, prime seating disappeared quickly. The drive from Alpharetta to New Hope Church in Stone Mountain was thirty minutes. Unless they encountered very little traffic today, Jennifer feared that her indecisiveness had already guaranteed that she and her son wouldn't get the opportunity to sit anywhere near T.K.
“We're gonna be late, Ma,” Jerrod pointed out as soon as she rounded the corner from her bedroom to the living room where he waited. “Why you didn't just let Coach pick us up like he did the last time? He ain't never late. We would've got to church on time if we had been riding with him.”
Jennifer knew that they were running late and had no need to be reminded. She was already unnerved enough, and now Jerrod was adding to it. “How many times have you made us late?” she snapped. “I run behind schedule one time and you want to gripe about it, but how many times has getting to church late been your fault, Jerrod? Huh?”
“That's different, Ma,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Everybody be late at Temple of God's Word. Ms. Essie used to say so herself. She was the only one who would get to church on time and would have to just sit out in her car and wait for somebody with a key to show up. So when we're late getting there, we're really on time, 'cause ain't nobody else gonna be there at eleven either.”
Jennifer wanted to wallop him one good time, but Jerrod was too old for spankings now, and his words were way too accurate for her to contest. She used her hand to nudge him out onto the front porch, and then locked the door behind them.
“You sure I can't—”
“No, Jerrod.” Jennifer knew that he would make one last plea for her car keys, and she'd prepared herself for it. “You get in Driver's Ed. next school term and get your learner's permit, and then I'll start letting you practice.”
“Practice? I don't need no practice, Ma. I can drive. I used to do it all the time when I was a freshman. Big Dog Freddie used to let me—”
“Don't
ever
let me hear you say that jailbird's name again. Do you hear me? That's why he's doing time now. Because he's stupid. And you didn't have no better sense than to let him have you doing stupid stuff too. You used to do a lot of things you shouldn't have done when you were a freshman, Jerrod. That's nothing to brag about.”
As she pulled out of the subdivision onto the main highway, Jennifer noted her son's sunken demeanor. She hated it when he made reference to anything he used to do when he was a part of that wannabe school gang last year. It had been a dark time in both their lives, and Jennifer didn't care to be reminded of it even now. Despite that, she knew that her tone had been excessively harsh. Jerrod had proven himself to be a good kid since being rescued by Essie's prayers and God's grace. He didn't deserve for her to take her tension out on him.
“I'm sorry,” Jennifer said over the soft melody of Praise 102.5, the radio station that single-handedly prevented complete silence in the car for the first few miles of their drive. “I just don't like to hear you talk about Freddie or the Dobermans. That bunch of hoodlums could have landed you in jail had you been caught driving without a license.”
When Jerrod didn't offer a reply, Jennifer stole a brief glance, then turned her eyes back to the road ahead. In spite of it all, Jerrod was a sensitive child, and sometimes his tough exterior made Jennifer forget that. Her son had apologized for the deeds of his past, and Jennifer knew that she had no right to dredge up anything that had happened back then. More than a year ago, she had assured Jerrod that all was forgiven and forgotten, but this wasn't the first time she'd chosen to rehash it all.
Jennifer took another quick look in her son's direction. He hadn't moved an inch since she offered her apology. Jerrod continued to stare out the window, looking as if he hadn't heard a word she'd said. His stare was so convincing that Jennifer wondered if he had.
“I said I'm sorry, Jerrod.” It was only then that she saw movement.
He shrugged his shoulders in a carefree manner. “It's a'ight, Ma. I'm cool.”
The twenty-five mile drive seemed much longer with no dialogue flowing between them, but eventually Jennifer was navigating her car in the already congested parking lot of New Hope Church, a house of worship best known for its respected pastor, Reverend B.T. Tides.
When Jennifer and Jerrod pressed their way through the entrance along with other congregants who had barely made it inside before the praise and worship leaders took the stand, they had very little choice on where they would sit. The usher directed them to an exit row seating midway into the edifice. They weren't the best seats in the house, but at least the two of them weren't forced to get their best view of the pulpit from captured images portrayed on wide-screen monitors that hung from the ceiling. Those seats would be the reward of those who didn't make it in before the opening prayer that was soon to follow.
Jennifer loved the energy that immediately met her at the door every time she visited T.K.'s church. The services at Temple of God's Word were often spirited too, but for Jennifer, it wasn't to be compared.
“Do you see Coach?” Jerrod leaned in close so that Jennifer could hear him over the music.
“Among all these people? Are you kidding?” Jennifer laughed, mostly because she was glad to have her son speaking to her again.
Jennifer had barely gotten the words out when she felt a tug on her arm. Her heart fluttered just a bit when she turned to her left to see T.K. standing in the aisle motioning for her and Jerrod to follow him. Grabbing her belongings and her son's arm, Jennifer asked no questions. The three of them came to a stop at seating that was only four rows from the front of the church. T.K. had reserved two seats just for them.
“If you aren't standing already, let us corporately reverence the Lord by doing so at this time.” Minister Jackson Tides, the pastor's eldest son, took the podium and gave his orders before leading the opening prayer.
Jennifer bowed her head as instructed, but she struggled to meditate on God. She found herself wishing that the service would suddenly shift into the speed of light and that this opening prayer would all at once become the benediction. Her palms sweated and her stomach churned, knowing what was about to take place over dinner this afternoon.
I wonder if T.K. is as nervous as I am.
“In the matchless name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen, amen, and amen.”
It was the only part of the prayer that Jennifer had heard. Shamefully, she had to admit to herself that all other words that Minister Tides had uttered were as unintelligible as the “Wah, wah, wah, wah” dialogue of the teacher on every Charlie Brown movie she'd ever seen. Jennifer was remorseful that she'd allowed her mind to stray so far away from what was going on in the worship service, but there was no way that God didn't understand her excitement. No one knew better than He knew how long she'd waited for a decent man to share her heart, her home, and her son with.
Jerrod's finally going to have a dad . . . a real dad!
Jennifer could hardly restrain herself. For more than fifteen years, Jerrod had been forced to grow up in a single parent home, and much of his life had been negatively affected because of it. With no help from Jennifer's parents, who expelled her from their home, or the boy she'd allowed to impregnate her, she and Jerrod had struggled for many years.
Jennifer remembered the process of having to relocate from her parents' dysfunctional home to an overcrowded group home for pregnant teens in Anderson, South Carolina; then to project housing that wasn't fit for human dwelling. Her time at the group home had run out, and the roach infested apartment was the best she could afford on a hotel maid's salary. They eventually moved to housing provided by the Department of Housing and Urban Development. It surpassed the living conditions of their previous dwelling, but not by much. Only after Jennifer relocated to Atlanta and obtained an associates degree, was she fortunate enough to net her current job and move her son to Braxton Way. By then, though, Jerrod had already been poisoned by his circumstances and environment, and it had taken a lot of prayer to turn his life around. A lot of prayer that only an old sanctified lady could deliver to God's ears.
That rescue had come compliments of Essie Mae Richardson. Now, Jennifer was ecstatic to know that their next step up would be a gift
she
could give her son. She had prayed for a testimony like this—one wherein she could glorify God because
she
had made a marked impact on her son's future. It would be because she had finally made a good decision on what kind of man to bring into her son's life that he would finally have a family complete with a mother
and
a father.
The praise and worship service was in high gear now, but Jennifer's mind took turns paying attention to the goings on in front of her and sinking into deep thought about what was going to happen later in the day. When the high-spirited music and singing ended, the service was turned over to the pastor.
BOOK: The Morning After
7.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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