The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Decked Out (12 page)

We stopped in the archway. Just Josh and Edesa
and
baby Gracie.

The baby, swathed in blankets, was asleep on Edesa's lap on the couch. Edesa smiled at us—but her smile trembled.
Dear God, she's
scared.
I moved to her side, bent down, and gave her a hug.

She hugged me back.
“Gracias,”
she whispered. The bundle in her arms squirmed, whimpered, and then quieted again.

We all sat. “Uh, might as well get to the point.” Josh sat on the edge of the recliner in its “down” position, rubbing his hands together. He kept his eyes on Edesa and the baby. “Edesa and I have decided to get married and adopt Gracie. Together. I mean, adopt her together, so she will have both a mother and a father from the get-go.”

I swallowed. “Get married . . . when?”

Josh licked his lips. “As soon as we can pull it together.”Now he did look at us. “Uh, Mom and Dad, before you guys say anything, just hear me out. Edesa did not ask me to marry her now so we could do this thing. This is my idea. Uh, actually, it was God's idea.”

He must have caught the glance that passed between Denny and me, because Josh threw up his hands. “Hey, I know that sounds crazy. But just listen, okay?”

“We're listening, son,” Denny said.

Josh drew in a deep breath. “All right. Christmas is coming up, right? So after the funeral yesterday, I was helping some of the Katrina kids put together a Christmas play to surprise their moms. I was reading the Christmas story to them from the Bible, how Mary was engaged to Joseph, but before they got married, an angel told Mary she would get pregnant and have a baby, God's Son, the promised Messiah. And one of the boys snickered and said, ‘Man, bet Joseph got rid of that chick in a hurry.' And I said, ‘Yeah, well, he was tempted to because he didn't understand that it was
God
doing this thing.'”

I had an inkling where this was going.

“So I kept reading—say, you got a Bible around here?” Josh pounced on the study Bible I'd left beside the recliner. Turning pages until he found what he wanted, he cleared his throat and read: “‘Joseph, her fiancé, being a just man, decided to break the engagement quietly, so as not to disgrace her publicly. As he considered this, he fell asleep, and an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. ‘Joseph, son of David,' the angel said, ‘do not be afraid to go ahead with your marriage to Mary. For the child within her has been conceived by the Holy Spirit . . . '”

Josh closed the Bible. His eyes were brimming. “Mom . . . Dad. I tell you, as I read that, it was like God shouted in my ear,
‘Josh!
Don't be afraid to marry Edesa, for the child I've given to her is from
Me.
'”

The whole room seemed to hold its breath.

But a moment later, Josh got up from the recliner and moved over beside Edesa on the couch, pulling her close. Edesa's dark head leaned against his chest, crying softly. I fished for a tissue. Beside me, Denny blew his nose.

Josh broke the silence. His voice was husky. “Mom and Dad, I know it doesn't make sense, and I'm sure you've got a lot of questions. Believe me,
we
have a lot of questions! What about finishing school? Where will we live? How can we support a family? And I'll be first to admit, those are scary questions. But . . .” Josh's voice rose a notch; the huskiness disappeared, and his chin lifted. “I feel—no, I
know
—God spoke to me. So I'm not afraid.”

Beside me, Denny suddenly bent over and began to untie his shoes. I nudged him, a
what-are-you-doing?
nudge.

My husband took off one shoe, then the other, and looked up. “I'm removing my shoes,” Denny said, “because we're standing on holy ground.”

11

I
was startled by Denny's dramatic action. But I felt it too. For several minutes none of us spoke, as if reluctant to disrupt a holy hush. Something was happening right here in our living room I didn't completely understand . . . something spiritual. Beyond my comprehension. The kind of God-event that used to terrify the disciples, like when Jesus came walking on the water in the middle of a storm. But Jesus said,
“Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid.”

Josh had said it himself: scary questions—but he wasn't afraid. He had spoken with absolute certainty, not knowing whether we would understand. He didn't say it in so many words, but his demeanor was loud and clear:
“This is our decision, whether you agree
or not.”

My heart hurt within my chest, swollen with mixed emotions. I was so doggone proud of Josh, stepping forward as a man to take responsibility for this woman and this orphaned child. At the same time, I wanted to shake him.
Josh! Wake up! You aren't Joseph and this
baby isn't the Christ Child! Don't be melodramatic!

Questions . . . oh
yes, I had
lots
of questions. But one in particular rose to the surface. Finally, I cleared my throat. “What if Carmelita's family is found, and they want the baby? Even if not, isn't adoption an uphill process? You have to meet certain state standards, have home visits, all that kind of thing. I mean, what if you get married,
bam
, off the bat—and then the adoption falls through?”

Josh and Edesa looked at each other, the look of lovers speaking volumes no one else can hear. Then Edesa spoke. “In my heart, Jodi, I truly believe it was God who brought Carmelita to Manna House. And she chose
me
to care for Gracie if anything happened to her! When Carmelita died, I knew what I had to do. Oh yes, I trembled, not knowing if Josh, or anyone, would understand. But like Mary, I had to say, ‘If this is Your will, Lord, so be it.' And then, praise Jesus . . . God spoke to Josh too!”

A smile returned to Edesa's face, sunshine on mahogany, as she held up her left hand with the simple engagement ring Josh had given her. “And whatever happens, Jodi, we had already planned to be married,
si
? We are only moving up the timetable. For all the rest, we need to trust God.”

Trust God . . .
How could I argue with that?

Not knowing what else to do, I asked if they'd like to stay for supper, even though it was only four o'clock and I was still stuffed from the potluck at SouledOut. They declined. “I've got home-work to do.” Josh sighed. “Still have classes this week.”

“Me too.” Edesa shifted the baby. “Takes longer with this
bambino
around.”

“Well,
that's
a bit of reality,” Denny said dryly—and for some reason it struck us funny, and we all laughed a little too loud and maybe too long.

Denny offered to drive them home—Josh to his apartment near the UIC campus, and Edesa back to Manna House with Gracie—strapping the well-used baby carrier Delores had donated into the car's seat belts. As I watched our minivan back out of the garage and bump out of sight over the icy ruts in the alley, hot tears finally hit the surface. I gave in and blubbered out loud to God.

“God! This feels so crazy! So . . . so backwards! What are they gonna do—get married at a justice of the peace just so they can show a marriage certificate to DCFS? What about a
wedding
? In a church! With . . . with invitations and bridesmaids and a reception and time for the grandparents to attend? All the stuff they could do if they weren't trying to hurry ahead of themselves. Is this
really
Your idea—or did Josh and Edesa just find a convenient scripture to rubber-stamp what they want to do?”

I thumped into the bathroom on my crutches and started the bathwater. A good, hot soak. That's what I needed to calm me down. But as I sank beneath the bubbles a few minutes later, my thoughts were still spinning.
Sure, Josh says he's not afraid—but just
wait until he has to pay for groceries and rent and the electric bill with
just a high school diploma. Groceries aren't optional!

I was still in the tub when I heard footsteps in the kitchen. Denny was back. I didn't really want to talk to him right now, so I added more hot water and bubble bath. But as the bubbles fizzled and the bathwater cooled to lukewarm, another reality set in.

Josh was twenty-one. He was an adult. He could make this huge, life-changing decision, and there wasn't a thing we could do about it.

EVEN THOUGH JOSH and Edesa had told us they were going to get married as soon as they could “get it together,” I wasn't prepared for Josh's phone call the next evening.

“Mom? Can you get Dad on the extension? . . . Oh, hi Dad. Just wanted to let you guys know we decided to get married on Christmas Eve afternoon. Reverend Handley said we could use the multipurpose room for the wedding, no problem.”

I sank into a dining room chair.
Christmas Eve?
That was less than two weeks away! And Manna House? “Why Manna House?” I blurted.

“Couple of reasons. Most important, we'd like the Manna House residents to come to the wedding. They've been part of the whole scenario since Carmelita and Gracie first arrived here; they feel a certain kinship to the baby. Easiest way for them to attend would be to have the wedding there. But also, a lot of churches have Christmas Eve programs going on that day. Even if the time didn't conflict, there would be rehearsals and stuff going on. This way we won't be in anybody's way.”

I stifled a hysterical giggle. A wedding at a women's homeless shelter? At least it wasn't a justice of the peace.

“I know it's short notice, but we'd like to invite the grandparents. Could you give me their phone numbers?”

“Uh, sure. Just a minute.” I kept the phone to my ear as I hunted for our address book, glad for something to do. The giggle threatened to surface. I'd love to see Denny's upscale-New-York parents' faces when they got the invitation to their grandson's wedding:
“You are cordially invited to celebrate with us at the Manna
House women's shelter.”
Except it wouldn't be a formal invitation, just a phone call. Still.

“ . . . Edesa's family won't be able to come from Honduras, obviously,” Josh was saying. “But Delores is going to be ‘mother of the bride.' And Edesa would like Amanda to be her maid of honor. Haven't asked her yet, though. Wanted to let you guys know first.”

I fumbled through the address book but had trouble finding the numbers. Everything was happening too fast! Too much! Too quickly! Thoughts bounced around in my psyche, bumping against my stew of emotions. Yes, Josh
was
trying to keep us in the loop. But, a wedding on Christmas Eve? Yesterday, the thought of catching up on gift buying seemed like a big deal. And . . .Amanda the maid of honor?
Ack!
Wearing what? How? . . .Wait. If Edesa was going to have a bridesmaid—

“Who's going to stand up with you, Josh?”
Oh. Did I say that last
thought aloud?

“Well, I've been thinking about that. Since Edesa's asking my sister to stand up with her, I thought I might ask José Enriquez. He's the closest thing to a brother Edesa has here in the States—maybe the closest thing to a brother I'll ever have too.”

Hm.
Amanda
and
José. Sounded like a plot to me.

“You got those numbers, Mom? Actually, I've got a lot of calls still to make.”

“Oh. Sure . . . Speaking of calls, should I tell Yada Yada? Are they invited?”

Josh laughed. “Cool it, Mom. Edesa wants to do that. She's Yada Yada, too, you know.”

EXACTLY. EDESA REYES was my Yada Yada sister, had been for three and a half years. I loved her so much. When I first met her, she seemed an exotic creature, not African-American, but African-
South
-American. Fluent in English, but Spanish was her mother tongue. She had come to the States from Honduras to attend college—the first in her family—and she had a heart to help the poor and the homeless in practical ways: healthy living, good nutrition, mothering skills, whatever. And she was a delight! Her effervescent spirit brightened every gathering, like a child blowing bubbles.

And yet, when I realized my son had fallen in love with Edesa, a woman three years older than he, everything got complicated. He'd given her an engagement ring when he was nineteen and she was twenty-two. Now he was twenty-one and she was twenty-four—not exactly teenagers. So why did it feel like they were rushing it? Was I holding Edesa at arm's length, not yet accepting my son's choices?

Oh God,
I groaned inwardly as I stowed my crutches in the backseat of Avis's car after school later that week and climbed into the front.
I feel like I got on the wrong train, and I want to get off! Why
can't I hear You, Lord? Are You in control here?

“Are you okay, Jodi?” Avis asked as she pulled out of the school parking lot. “I haven't had a chance to talk to you since Edesa called to say she and Josh are getting married next week.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “That's
kind of huge.”