Past
When it finally sank in that my first romance was over, I called Lynette to receive some compassion. Lord knows I’d cried with her through enough breakups. But instead of being kind and supportive, she tore into me like a lion into a freshly killed antelope.
“I cannot believe you,” said Lynette in a bitterly scolding tone.
“Well, believe it,” I replied with a conviction that I didn’t truly feel. “I’m not just going to marry the first man who comes along. I’ve waited far too long for that.”
“The first man! He’s the only man you’ve been the least bit interested in since Marvin Baker. You act like you just have eligible bachelors lining up to be with you.”
“I’m not about to argue with you on this one. The Lord said no, and that’s that.”
Lynette scoffed, “You kill me with the Lord said this and the Lord said that! Since when did you become such a deep wonder? You’ve been hanging around with Ebony too much, and she don’t have a man, either!”
I purposely ignored her dig at Ebony. “I’m not trying to be deep. I just know that Travis is not the man for me.”
“And you’re sure about that? Did Travis do or say something to influence your decision?” asked Lynette.
I thought about the felonies. I wondered if God’s hand was truly in the situation or if Travis’s revelation had been the only reason for the breakup.
“Look, Travis told me that he’s a convicted felon. Even if I didn’t think God was directing me, I’d still say no.”
“What brotha doesn’t have felonies these days?”
I was taken aback. I’d expected Lynette to back me up, but she was nowhere near being in my corner. I started thinking that I’d called the wrong friend. I should’ve known better. Between the two of us, I was the one with common sense. Lynette’s nonchalant attitude was what drew me to her in friendship. I’d always lived vicariously through her.
“You’re talking crazy, Lynette! You know the kind of man I want to get with. And that man does not have prison time under his belt.”
“I’m not the one who’s crazy. Let me bring you back to reality. You are thirty-six years old. You’re overweight to a fault. Yet one of the finest, saved men in Cleveland wants to be with you. But you, all of a sudden, are hearing from heaven that he’s not the man the Lord sent.”
Her words hit me like a boxer’s blows. “I don’t have to listen to this!”
“You need to listen to this! You are so caught up in your own deepology that you’re going to miss out on a good man.”
I responded angrily, “Well, maybe if you had been sensitive to the Spirit of the Lord in your life, it wouldn’t have taken you so long to find Jonathan. I don’t need the hard knocks, I can just look at yours.”
I was not surprised when I heard the dial tone in my ear. Lynette was good for hanging up on people, especially in the heat of an argument. I hadn’t meant to throw her past mess-ups in her face. I wished that I had more experience with men. It frightened me to think that Lynette’s rant included so many elements of truth.
Ebony and I sat in First Lady Jenkins’s office, licking stamps and putting them on invitations to our annual women’s conference. I couldn’t believe that it was already September and conference time again. It seemed as if we had just finished all the work from the previous year’s event.
To top it all off, Mama’s birthday party was a week away and I still had not found a suitable date. Of course, I hadn’t actually asked anyone, but it wasn’t like I had a little black book or anything. My choices were slim to none—closer to none. I was trying to get up the nerve to ask Brother Marvin, although he was my absolute last resort.
When I’d told Ebony about my breaking up with Travis, she was characteristically silent. She’d nodded and whispered Jesus under her breath—probably a prayer for my strength.
“The conference is going to be so anointed this year,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t wait to hear what the Lord has to say to the women.”
“I know! I’m looking forward to it, too,” I replied, trying to catch some of Ebony’s enthusiasm.
“I’m sure the Lord has a word for you, Charmayne. Be encouraged.”
I nodded and continued my stamp licking. Sometimes Ebony’s stoic manner got on my nerves. I needed her prayers, but sometimes I just wanted her to get real with me. That was the reason I needed a friend like Lynette. She would pray for me, too, but only after she’d gotten angry, tearful, and bitter right along with me.
First Lady breezed into her office looking as if she didn’t have a care in the world. I knew that to be untrue—she had more cares than the average woman. I admired her ability to retain her joyfulness even in the midst of trials.
She said, “Ebony. Will you please go make one hundred copies of this memo to the auxiliary heads and ministry staff? I want to make sure no one says they didn’t know about their special offering.”
Ebony graciously took the memo from First Lady’s hand. I was glad that she hadn’t asked me, because the copier needed replacing and would only print ten copies at a time without jamming. Ebony’s job would take at least an hour to complete.
When Ebony was safely out of earshot, First Lady asked, “Charmayne, how are you? You seem too quiet.”
“I’m blessed, First Lady,” I replied with an upbeat tone, trying to mask my true feelings.
I knew that First Lady wasn’t going to accept my response. She’d only asked me how I was doing because it was obvious something was wrong.
She asked, “Whatever happened with that young man you were dating? I haven’t heard you talk about him since Lynette’s wedding.”
“I broke up with him, First Lady,” I replied sadly. I swallowed hard to keep from crying.
“So soon? He seemed so nice.”
I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. “He was! I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”
“Well, now, I’m sure you had a good reason,” she responded in the caring tone she used when she counseled the women of our church.
“He has felony convictions and he spent time in prison.”
First Lady nodded pensively. Lynette had made me self-conscious about my deepology, so I didn’t say anything about how I felt in my spirit.
“Did you go to God in prayer before you made your decision?”
“Well, no, but the night before, I’d prayed about the whole situation because I was feeling uneasy. I believe that the Lord exposed Travis’s past as a way of saying no.”
“If you feel that the Lord is telling you no, you did the right thing. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“But,” I cried, “I don’t feel any peace about anything. Shouldn’t I feel peace when I follow the will of God?”
“You will feel peace—just don’t let the devil take it away.”
First Lady got up and walked to the other side of her desk. She perched on the edge directly in front of me.
“You know,” she continued while handing me tissues to dry my tears, “Prince Charming doesn’t always have to come in a pretty package.”
I supposed that she was referring to Travis’s looks. She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. In fact, I’d always expected my Prince Charming to be more of a court jester. It wasn’t until I’d met Travis that I even dared to dream about someone tall, dark, and handsome.
“I know, First Lady.”
“Brother Marvin asked Pastor about you the other day.”
My eyes widened with disbelief. “He did? What did he ask?”
“In a roundabout way he asked if you were dating anyone.”
I didn’t know whether to be indignant or joyous. Why, of all people, would Marvin ask our pastor who I was dating? If he wanted to know, then he could’ve asked me himself.
I said, “Well, I had thought of inviting him to a birthday party, but I didn’t think he’d be interested.”
First Lady responded excitedly, “So now that you know he’s interested, what are you waiting for? Ask him! He’s right outside Bishop’s office. They’ll be leaving for Toledo soon. Hurry and catch him.”
First Lady’s enthusiasm was infectious, because before I knew it I was rushing out into the hallway, looking for a brother who barely even said hello when he saw me. I nearly collided with him as he walked out of Bishop Jenkins’s study. I greeted him with a big smile, but I thought I detected a hint of nervousness on his face.
“Praise the Lord, Brother Marvin!”
“Praise Him, Charmayne,” he responded quietly.
“Um . . . how have you been lately? We haven’t talked in a while.”
The nervous look changed to irritation. I wasn’t sure that First Lady Jenkins knew what she was talking about. Marvin didn’t seem at all comfortable with talking to me.
“I’ve been good.”
“Look, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me to my mother’s birthday party,” I blurted almost unintelligibly. I hoped that he didn’t ask me to repeat myself, because I was sure that I couldn’t.
“You mean as a date?” Marvin asked, clearly not thrilled with the idea.
I stumbled over my words. “I mean, not necessarily as a date. More like an escort.”
Marvin’s eyes shifted from left to right. I guessed that he was trying to find a way to refuse without seeming like a jerk.
I decided I’d make it easier for him. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I willed the tears to stay in their places. I would not give Marvin the pleasure or guilt of making me cry in front of him.
“It’s not that I’d mind, really. I just think it might give people the wrong impression,” he explained feebly.
I turned and walked away—quickly. I sped past First Lady’s office, although she was standing outside her door looking hopeful. I couldn’t blame her. I should’ve known better. Plus I’d forgotten about the new single sister who had joined our church. She looked like a mixture of Vanessa Williams and Angela Bassett. No doubt, Marvin had again set his sights on an unattainable prize. Oh, how I wished that I didn’t care. I did care, and I let the devil and Marvin Baker steal any lingering vestiges of peace.