What a Sista Should Do (7 page)
“Yes. I have his address, but he’s married. Is there a way we can handle this without involving his wife?”
“I’m surprised that you care. He obviously doesn’t care what happens to you or your son. If he did, you wouldn’t be down here. Address, please.”
“Four twenty-one Sumpter Court.”
“Sumpter Court? Sounds like your baby’s father is doing all right.”
I smile weakly, because it’s true. Sumpter Court is a gated community of brownstones in an elite suburb. The lawns are all neatly manicured and landscaped, and any stray litter would look completely out of place. It’s mostly inhabited by doctors, lawyers and other upscale businesspersons. Luke built his CPA firm from the ground up, and he is quite successful.
“He does all right, I guess. Honestly, I don’t know his financial status.”
“Don’t worry about that. We can find all of that out as soon as we establish paternity.”
“There’s no way he’s going to take a paternity test.”
“Honey, the judges can be real persuasive.”
Ms. So-and-So keeps talking, but I’m no longer paying her any attention. I’m thinking of how I’m going to approach Luke. There’s no way I can just let him get a court summons in the mail. That just wouldn’t be right, no matter how wrong he’s been to me. And he has been wrong. It’s wrong for me to have to sit here, like a beggar, asking for spare change, not when he was supposed to have left his wife for me.
When Luke first said that he was divorcing Yvonne, I didn’t believe him. My confidence was won gradually. First he would complain about how she wore her clothes and combed her hair like an old woman. Yvonne is not a bad-looking woman. She has a smooth chocolate complexion, with huge brown eyes that are so clear they look like a little girl’s. Her nose is small and pointy, and her lips look like slashes without lipstick. Still, I would look at Yvonne and think she might be attractive if she didn’t look so country. She obviously thinks she looks just fine with that big bun in the back of her head and those bangs. Oh my God, the bangs—which she rolls with a sponge roller. She looks at Luke with so much love in her eyes that I wondered how Luke could even think of being unfaithful. But when we started having weekend getaways together on a regular basis, I slowly bought into the promise. I thought, what husband could leave for the whole weekend and his wife not care where he was or who he was with?
I think the pregnancy scared him. It kind of created an ultimatum. It was like, “Okay, you said you were leaving . . . so now what?” Except I never let the words come out of my mouth. Luke bucked and ran like a frightened deer. I was terrified myself, but where could I run? Nowhere.
But now the chickens have come home to roost, and there’s going to be consequences. It was never my intention to hurt Sister Yvonne, and I can’t imagine how she’s going to react. But I guess I really don’t have to worry about that. I’ll leave that to Luke. It’s about time he was held responsible for something.
Pam
C
orporate America never ceases to amaze me. Every time I feel like I’ve reached my glass ceiling, it seems to stretch. God is good. Not only do I answer to a vice president, but now I have a personal assistant. You’re not really important in the corporate world until you have direct reports, and now I’m going to have a staff.
I immediately thought of Sister Taylor. That’s why I’m standing in front of her apartment waiting for her to buzz me up. I wanted to give her a quick interview and hire her on the spot. I know enough about her to think she’ll be perfect for the job. Besides, she needs the help and so do I.
I see Taylor peeping out of her window, and she looks like she doesn’t want to let me in. Maybe I should’ve called first. Finally, I hear the loud buzzer sounding through the speaker. I walk in the door, and Taylor is standing at the top of a huge flight of stairs.
“Sister Pam, I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry it took me so long to let you in, I was giving Joshua a bath.”
I smile instead of speak, because I can’t catch my breath after walking up the stairs. I know I need to take my chunky butt to the gym and work off these extra pounds I’m carrying around.
“Come on in. It’s a little messy, so please excuse my dust. I was just about to start cleaning.”
“A little messy” is an understatement, but I certainly can’t talk. Ain’t no telling how my house is looking right now. I clear a pile of laundry and have a seat on Taylor’s worn-out sofa. Not only is the apartment a wreck, but Taylor looks a mess herself. She is one of those girls who have never had new growth, and her roots were always dyed. But today she’s got a kitchen on the back of her head as well as in the front, and is that a track I see? Lord, have mercy, this girl needs to come on and get hired so she can get her hair done.
“So, Sister Pam, to what do I owe this visit?”
“Do I have to have an agenda? Can’t I just be calling on my sister?”
Taylor laughs. “Well, Sister Yvonne came by a week ago, and now you. I guess I am a little suspicious. I ain’t had this much company in a long time.”
“Well, calm down, girl. I don’t know what Missionary Yvonne was here for, but I’ve got good news.”
“Really? I could sure use some right about now.”
I explain my position at Ellis Financial and my expectations. Taylor squeals and comes over to where I’m sitting. She gives me a bear hug and plants a huge wet kiss on my face. I’m shocked and just a little uncomfortable. I didn’t take Taylor for the demonstrative type.
“Thank you so much. You don’t know how bad I need this. How did you know I was looking for work?”
“Someone brought it up in the Sister to Sister meeting.”
“Is that a fact?” she said, the joy leaving her voice. I know what she’s thinking, and after what happened in the meeting she attended, I cannot blame her.
“Taylor, we don’t just come together to gossip. It’s really about helping each other out. You should give us another chance.”
Taylor shakes her head violently. I didn’t know she was that opposed to the group.
“No thanks, Sister Pam. I don’t think it’s for me. Now back to the job. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but how much is it paying?”
“How does twelve fifty an hour with full benefits sound?”
“Perfect.”
“All I expect is that you come to work and do your best.”
She gives me a bright smile. I never noticed how beautiful a girl she is.
“Thank you so much. You won’t be disappointed.” I notice her expression change as if she’s just thought of something else. The girl looks like her mind is a thousand miles away.
“Taylor, is there something bothering you? You know that you can talk to me.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it. “Well . . . no, not really,” she says quickly. “I’ve just been stressed-out with this job search and all.”
I don’t believe her. It looked like she was about to say something else and then changed her mind. I’m not about to beg her to tell me her problems, though. I’ve certainly got enough of my own to deal with.
“All right, then, you can start tomorrow.” I give her my card with the address. “I’ll take you to Human Resources.”
I get up to leave, and Taylor goes to open the door. She looks like she’s in a hurry for me to leave. I don’t blame her. Sometimes I don’t want to be bothered with people either—especially church folk.
“Sister Pam, can I ask you a question before you leave?”
“Sure.”
“Well, see, I’m having this issue, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay . . .” I don’t know if I want to hear it.
“Well, I went downtown to apply for assistance, and they told me that I couldn’t get anything until I told them who Joshua’s daddy was.”
“You don’t have to worry about that now. You have a job.”
“I know, I know. But they’ve already sent paperwork to his house, demanding that he establish paternity.”
“I don’t see what you’ve done wrong. Joshua’s father should be helping you out anyway.”
Taylor sits down on the sofa, so I take her lead and do the same.
“Joshua’s father is . . . well . . . married.”
“And his wife doesn’t know?”
“No. Should I warn him that the court documents are coming? He may have already gotten them. I don’t know.” There is panic in her eyes and voice.
“You probably should let him know. His wife is going to take it badly either way, but it would be better coming from him.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking, but I can’t bring myself to call him.”
I think about the woman who is his wife. I wonder if she knows her husband stepped out on her. “Do you know his wife?”
“Yes. Does that make this worse?”
I’m not going to ask the question that is nagging in my head. I want to ask if the couple goes to our church, but I really don’t want to hear the answer. If it’s yes, this will be the biggest scandal to hit New Faith House of Worship since Pastor Brown’s nephew came out of the closet.
“Not necessarily worse, but definitely more complicated. You aren’t friends, are you?”
“No. I would say we’re more like acquaintances.”
I start shifting in my seat. “Taylor, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. Part of me wants to say that this jerk owes you some child support, but another part of me feels sorry for that wife when she finds out.”
She nods, and it seems to clear her head. “You know what, Pam, thank you for listening to me. And thank you for the job. I guess this is something that I’m going to have to work out on my own.”
“You’re welcome, Taylor. Before I leave, why don’t we pray on this thing? It might sound like a mess right now, but I’m sure that God will fix it.”
Taylor looks genuinely surprised. “Okay.”
I grab both of Taylor’s hands and pray, “Lord, we humbly come to You, acknowledging Your mercy and Your grace. We first ask forgiveness for the sins that we’ve committed knowingly and those that we’ve committed unknowingly. I ask You, Lord, to put Your hand in Taylor’s situation. I ask that You move in her favor, Lord, and give her child’s father a kind heart. Lord, I ask that You continue to strengthen Taylor throughout her ordeal and give her the right words to speak to this man’s wife. I ask for Your continued blessings on Taylor and Joshua. In Jesus’ name I pray . . . amen.”
I’m standing up again, and I find myself hugging Taylor. My prayer was sincere, because I truly think that she needs the Lord to work a miracle on her behalf. As a married woman I have a feeling it’s going to get ugly, regardless of what action Taylor does or doesn’t take.
“Thank you for that, Pam. It really helps.”
“Anytime. You have my phone number, right? You can call me whenever.”
I walk out to my car, feeling like I should’ve said something else to Taylor. But honestly, I don’t know if I sympathize with her. In fact, I don’t feel the least bit sympathetic. More than likely, that’s because I’m married and Taylor just admitted to being a home wrecker. She reminded me that there are women who will sleep with a man whether or not he’s wearing a wedding band.
Of course, I don’t know what transpired between Taylor and her partner in crime. I’m sure he was feeding her all the lines that she wanted to hear. He was probably saying anything to get Taylor into bed, no matter what the consequences were.
Strangely, I felt uncomfortable, as if it was my husband that Taylor was cheating with. I thought if I stayed in her apartment for one more minute, I’d end up telling her off. I wanted to tell her to be a woman and apologize to her lover’s wife and beg her forgiveness. That’s not very wise counsel, though. There’s no telling how a wife will react to her husband’s mistress. I know I’d act a fool.
I want to be home. I just want to hold my little girls and gaze at Troy’s stupid grin. Who knows? Maybe I’ll give him a little treat tonight—a little something extra.
My man and my marriage may not be perfect, but they are mine. I think I’ll stake my claim again, just on general principle.
Yvonne
I
’ve walked around for a week with this summons in my pocket. It has my husband’s name on the front, as clear as day. Anyway, it seems that some woman named Taylor Johnson is accusing Luke Hastings of fathering her child.
Now, do I find it a huge coincidence that there is a Taylor Johnson in our church who just happens to have a child and no one knows who the father is? I may be a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. I can’t pass judgment until I’ve heard Luke’s explanation. It might help if I asked him about the whole thing.
The truth is, I’m scared. Not scared that he cheated, or that he even might be that little boy’s father. I’m afraid that he’s going to say that he doesn’t love me and that he’s leaving. I can handle the rest, as long as he stays.
Lord, please don’t let him leave me.
Luke’s been in good spirits of late. If there is trouble brewing, I sure can’t tell. He hasn’t been going on his long weekends, and he’s been a lot more loving. It seems like soon as the Lord answers my prayers for peace in my marriage, here comes the devil, stirring up a mess. He is not going to have the victory, though. Not in my life.
I have to say something, though, but only because this here letter says that it’s mandatory for Luke to show up for testing. If he doesn’t, the court can rule that the child is his, even if it isn’t. They can start taking money from him for child support. It doesn’t seem fair, but somebody made up those rules.
I’m trying to conjure up an image of Taylor’s little boy in my mind. Does he even look like Luke? I don’t know. At his age they can look like anybody. Mama’s baby, daddy’s maybe. I’ve never seen Luke pay any attention to him. If Joshua is Luke’s son, then he must not know. I can’t imagine my husband not owning up to his responsibilities.
Now, as for the cheating, I don’t put that past Luke. I don’t put that past any man. It’s in their sinful natures to cheat. Just like dogs in heat. Most of them have enough sense to cover their tracks, but even the best of them slip up from time to time.
I’m watching Luke gobble down his dinner. He loves my cooking, and tonight I made his favorite, smothered chicken and rice. Luke’s always quiet when he eats, and I don’t mind. I’m not one for dinner conversation. Tonight is going to be different, though.
