The Sunday Only Christian (10 page)

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Authors: E. N. Joy

BOOK: The Sunday Only Christian
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Chapter Eighteen
“Sister Deborah, you're here,” the pastor of New Day Temple of Faith greeted Deborah when she looked up from her desk and saw her standing in the doorway. “Come on in and have a seat.” Pastor Margie stood and pointed at a chair at the opposite side of her desk. “Sister Helen isn't here yet.” Pastor Margie looked at her desk clock. “Probably stuck in traffic or something because she's usually always on time.”
“Good, I'm glad she's not here yet,” Deborah replied as she walked to the chair and sat down. Once she got comfortable, she looked up to see her pastor giving her a reprimanding look. “Oh, no, Pastor, I didn't mean it like that. I meant I'm glad she's not here yet because there is something I'd like to say to you first.”
Pastor relaxed her facial muscles and then got comfy in her own chair. She then looked directly at Deborah, giving her her complete attention.
“Well, first of all, I just want to apologize for the way I acted this past Sunday in children's church,” Deborah started. “I was completely out of line. Fussing, yelling, and carrying on like that toward Sister Helen was just totally uncalled for, and in front of those kids.”
Pastor raised an eyebrow and allowed Deborah to continue without saying a word.
“Even when Sister Helen suggested we meet somewhere else to have the conversation, I was too stirred up to oblige. I wanted to put it all out there right then and there. Going out into the hallway wasn't sufficient either. I should have composed myself, cooled off, and just talked to her at another time like a grown woman. I'm sure Jesus was looking down on me wishing He could have a do-over at Calvary for my sake.” Deborah wiped a falling tear and then began to imitate what Jesus might have said that day. “I'll get up on that cross for mankind; everybody except for this broad named Deborah Lewis. She's a lost cause.” Deborah hunched over and began to cry, shoulders heaving up and down.
Pastor Margie leaned back in her chair, rested her chin in her hand, then looked out the row of windows to the right of her that faced the church parking lot. She inhaled, thought for a second, then exhaled. Finally she turned her attention back to Deborah. “So, you said this all happened this past Sunday?”
Deborah looked up at her pastor with a question mark on her face. “Uh, yes.”
Pastor Margie was silent for a moment, but then spoke again. “Did anything else happen?”
Deborah now wore two question marks on her face. “Well, uh, no. I don't think . . . Pastor, didn't Sister Helen tell you all of this already?”
“Actually, she didn't. When you called requesting I set up a meeting with you and Sister Helen, I wasn't too certain what it was going to be about. I mean, I know you two have a history during which you've had issues, but in my spirit, I truly felt the two of you had grown in Christ and were moving beyond it.”
“We were, but . . . then I . . .” Deborah couldn't get her words out. She was still shocked about the fact that Helen hadn't gone running straight to Pastor to tell her about the incident. Deborah was sure the first thing Helen would have done was to try to get her removed as a leader of the singles ministry. Deborah really wouldn't have blamed her. Her behavior had not been conducive to that of a church leader. But Deborah loved holding the title and she'd hate to have to deal with the humiliation of having it taken away from her. That's why she called the meeting with Pastor. She wanted to take the initiative to come explain herself—fight for her position in the church if need be. And to patch things up with Helen, of course. But now here she was finding out that she'd, in fact, opened the can of worms herself.
“Sorry I'm late.”
Both Pastor Margie and Deborah turned to see Helen entering Pastor's office.
“Oh, no, you're fine,” Pastor Margie said as she stood and immediately pointed to the chair next to Deborah. “Come on in and take a seat.” Pastor Margie sat at the same time Helen did. “Sister Deborah here was just telling me about a little incident that took place in children's church on Sunday.”
Helen instantly buried her head in the sand.
“I'm surprised you hadn't shared that information with me first.” Pastor Margie's eyes were planted on Helen, who was avoiding all eye contact. “After all, you are in charge of that ministry and what goes on in it, Sister Helen. What I'm even more surprised about is that one of the parents hasn't said anything to me about it. You know how kids are; they tell it all. And had a parent come to me, I would have been blind and in the dark about what was going on under the roof where I'm pastoring.” Pastor Margie continued reprimanding Helen. “Sister Helen, you have been placed as leader of the children's church, which means I myself, God, and parents hold you in a higher regard than almost any other position in the church.”
Deborah squirmed a little. She didn't know how she felt about the pastor sitting there and basically saying that Helen's position in the church was more important than hers. But on the other hand, she was glad that she wasn't the one Pastor was tearing into right now. Although her time could very well be coming.
“I'm so sorry, Pastor,” Helen replied regretfully.
“I understand you might have some kind of loyalty to Sister Deborah. I know you two have a history, have been mending your relationship, and you probably didn't want to risk jeopardizing how far you two have come. But you have to realize that your loyalty is to your assignment, those children, those parents, and more importantly, to God. If He puts you in charge over a few and little and you can't protect that, how can He trust you with increase?”
“I get it. I understand, Pastor, and I apologize. It will never happen again,” Helen said, and that's when Deborah felt it was finally time she step in to take some of the heat. After all, she was the one who lit the actual fire.
“She's right, Pastor,” Deborah said. “It won't happen again, because I will never, ever behave like that again. Not to Sister Helen or anyone else for that matter. I can honestly say that from the bottom of my heart. I realize what I did was absolutely un-Christ-like, and that's why I wanted to have this meeting today. I wanted to apologize to you, Pastor, for tainting God's house like that.” Deborah looked to Helen. “And I want to apologize to you, Sister Helen. You have been nothing but good to me and my son. When we agreed to put the past behind us, that is exactly what you did. I, on the other hand, let it come crashing back into my life like a deadly wave. It just took me under and I submerged myself in it. I did exactly what the devil wanted me to do. Satan set me up to fail, and I failed—miserably. But I promise you, the past is the past—for real this time. If you will forgive me for my behavior, I'll work hard to redeem myself in your eyes.”
Pastor just sat back and looked at Helen as if saying, “The ball is in your court.”
Helen stared down at her fingers she was nervously twiddling. After a moment she looked up at Deborah. “It wasn't my place to tell Lynox about the procedure. But that was back when you and I had issues. You have to understand that I was hurting back then. Hurt people hurt other people. Back then, I would have felt like I'd accomplished something by seeing your reaction. But now it just hurts me to see how much pain I caused you.”
“First of all,” Deborah replied, “I didn't realize that you'd told Lynox so long ago. As you know, I'd left the country, so he and I hadn't talked in a while. And now that we finally are talking—and one of the first things he tells me is that he knew about the abortion—I lost it. I knew it had to be you who told him. But I didn't even take it into consideration that you'd told him so long ago.”
“Well, that explains a lot on my end as well. I couldn't understand why you were saying something about it now. But, granted, that was still something that wasn't my business,” Helen said. “From the sounds of it, you are maybe trying to hook back up with Lynox again. I hope I didn't do anything to mess things up for you and I wish you both the best. And that's real talk.”
“I know it, Sister Helen. I know.” Deborah got up and hugged Helen, who returned the hug.
Helen said to Deborah, “Do you forgive me?”
“I forgave you a long time ago,” Deborah told Helen as she pulled out of the hug and took Helen's hands into hers. “The question is, do you forgive me?”
“With the love of Jesus, I certainly do.” Helen squeezed Deborah's hands, released them, and then stood. “Unless you want to whoop on me some more, Pastor,” Helen joked, “I'm going to head out. I have class later this evening.”
“Oh, yeah. That's right, you're taking those classes required by the state for you to start your own childcare business. How's that going?”
“It's going really well.” Helen smiled. “I just can't wait until I'm all finished so I can work on the next phase of licensing. Speaking of which, Pastor, when you have time, do you mind coming out to this building I found that I'd love to turn into a childcare facility? I'd like you to walk around the building with me, pray and touch and agree that I get that building. I've already asked a couple of other saints to join me.”
“I don't mind at all. Just let me know the date and the time.” Pastor Margie was glad to.
“Thank you, Pastor, for everything.” Helen gave Pastor Margie a hug and then headed for the door. “Stay blessed, Sister Deborah.”
“You too,” Deborah replied. Once Helen was gone, Deborah exhaled and said, “I guess I better get going myself.” She walked around to her pastor. “Thank you, Pastor, for taking the time out of your schedule for me. I really appreciate you and all you do.” Deborah hugged her pastor and then she, too, headed for the door.
“Not so fast,” she heard Pastor Margie say right as she stood at the doorway.
“Yes, Pastor?” Deborah turned around with a puzzled look on her face. As far as she was concerned, everything that needed to be said had been said. She and Helen were, once again, operating on a clean slate.
“Can you come back in and have a seat?” Pastor Margie nodded toward the door. “And close that, would you?” She then sat down in her seat.
Deborah, still a tad confused, obliged her pastor's request and then sat back down. “What is it, Pastor? What do you need to tell me?”
“It's not what I need to tell you. It's what you need to tell me.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” And Deborah really didn't know what her pastor was referring to. Confusion was evident on her face.
“Can I be real with you right now?” Pastor Margie asked.
“That goes without saying, Pastor.”
“Good. Real talk, that little song and dance you put on for Sister Helen, that sappy apology, that was all good. But what I need you to do is sit there and tell me what's really going on. In other words, be real and keep it real.”
As far as Deborah was concerned, Pastor Margie was showing a whole lot of attitude for a white woman. But God didn't care anything about color. What it all boiled down to was that Pastor Margie had seen right through Deborah's original little song and dance. Now it was time for the remix.
Chapter Nineteen
“I have to tell him. I absolutely have to tell Lynox this time,” Deborah told herself as she paced back and forth in front of her living room couch. Her son sat on the couch playing with an electronic toy and watching
Yo Gabba Gabba!
on the Nick Jr. television station.
Her mother was on her way to pick him up. She was scheduled to arrive at the house a whole half hour or so before Lynox. Deborah would have taken him to her mother's, but it was bingo night, so her mother said she'd swoop her grandson up afterward. Deborah knew she was cutting it close, but trusted God to be on her side. In spite of herself, somehow God always ended up on Deborah's side. Although Deborah was waiting for the day God would show up and say to her, “You know what? The devil can have you. I'm tired of playing with you. I'm going to give Satan the ‘W' on this one.” But for some reason, God never got tired of Deborah. He never gave up on her, always remaining on her team . . . no matter how dirty she sometimes played the game.
“Mommy, basketball,” Deborah's son called out, requesting she give him the mini-sized basketball that rested on top of his diaper bag.
“No, baby. Mommy can't have you pulling out toys all over the place. Your Ganny Ban Banny will be here shortly to pick you up. You can play basketball at her house. Okay?”
“Okay, Mommy,” her son said, basically just mimicking her, but still pointing to his basketball.
Deborah went and sat down next to him. “Oooh, look at
Yo Gabba Gabba!
” Deborah tried her best to distract him and get his mind off of that basketball or any other of his favorite toys other than the one he was playing with. She could keep up with that one toy, but feared if he started pulling others out, she might accidentally leave a toy out for Lynox to see. How would a supposedly childless single woman explain toys in her house? She'd spent the last hour making sure that nothing was out in the open that revealed a toddler lived there. The last thing she wanted was for Lynox to be tipped off before she got a chance to tell him about her son. He might not even stick around long enough to wait for an explanation.
Deborah had invited Lynox over for sweet tea and a little somethin' somethin' to put in their bellies. She didn't prepare an all-out full-course meal. She had no idea how long Lynox would hang around, if he would hang around at all, after she told him she had a son—that she was that readymade family he wanted nothing to do with. Times were too hard to be cooking up a big meal only for it to go to waste once Lynox told her he never wanted to see her again and walked out the door. That was the worst thing that could happen anyway. And it was pretty much inevitable. Lynox had made it clear how he felt about women who already had kids.
Refusing to think about the negative, Deborah sang and clapped along with her son to the show on the television. The doorbell ringing interrupted the playtime. “Ganny's here.” Deborah shot up and looked down at her watch. “And she's right on time.” Galloping across the living room, Deborah picked up the diaper bag and then went and opened the door. Upon opening it, her eyes bucked, and instinctively she slammed the door closed again.
“Oh my God! What is he doing here?” she whispered. She would have yelled it, but her voice was barely working. Her brain was hardly working. Her heart, her limbs, her lungs. She could hardly breathe.
“Ganny!” her son shouted as he hopped down off the couch and went running to the door. Once he reached the door and right as his little hand reached the knob, Deborah fought out of her mental paralysis and scooped him up into her arms.
“No, no, no, son. That's not Ganny,” she told him. “God, that is so not your Ganny.” Deborah just stood there holding her son nervously, clueless as to what her next move should be. The one thing she wasn't clueless about, though, was that she could not leave Lynox standing out there on her front porch. “Oh, God help me. Please.”
Once again, right when Deborah had had things all planned out, Lynox, marching to the beat of his own drum, got everything all out of tune.
The doorbell rang again.
“Think, Deborah, think,” she said to herself. But what was there to think about? She didn't have time to think. Lynox was going to think she was crazy if she didn't open that door. So, with no other options, she walked her son back over to the couch, sat him down, then went and opened the door. “Lynox, hi, glad you're here. You're early.” Deborah tried so hard to remain calm, but the fact that Lynox kept taking it upon himself to show up early was bothering her. Had she had nothing to hide, maybe it wouldn't have gotten under her skin so much. But that wasn't the case. She had plenty to hide.
“No, I'm right on time,” he begged to differ. “Your text said you'd see me at eight-thirty.”
“No, I'm sure it said nine o'clock,” Deborah insisted.
“No, I'm sure it said eight-thirty.” Lynox reached in his pocket. “See, I still have the text.” He pulled out his phone, pulled up the text on his screen, and showed Deborah. “See, eight-thirty.”
She felt so stupid, because lo and behold, the text read eight-thirty, which only meant one thing: she'd sent her mother and Lynox the wrong texts. If she'd sent Lynox the text telling him she'd see him at eight-thirty, that meant she'd sent her mother the text saying she'd see her at nine. It would be another half hour before her mother arrived. Now what in the world was she going to do about her son for the next thirty minutes?

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