Past
“Michelle, do you know what it means to be a Christian in the workplace?”
She sat silently, waiting for me to answer my own question. When it was obvious that I was waiting for a reply, she nodded.
I continued, “Well, let me tell you what I think it means. At all times, you should exemplify what God has done in your life. That includes being responsible, honest, and trustworthy. You have to show people who don’t know Christ that there is something different about you.”
I felt myself getting irritated, because Michelle was only barely paying attention. I could tell that she was nervous, and that she just wanted my speech to be over.
I cut to the chase. “If your attendance doesn’t improve, I’m going to have to terminate you.”
That sure got her attention. Her eyes started welling up, and I handed her a box of tissues.
“You don’t have to cry, Michelle. This is not the end of the world. Just do better.”
“Yes, Ms. Ellis. I will.”
It was always hard for me to come down on employees, especially when they were saved and members of my own church. I thought that when I’d accepted the position as president, I’d never have to handle human resource issues again. I was supposed to have people working for me to handle all that ugliness. But Grace Savings and Loan was one of those for-us-by-us operations. It was owned and operated by a coalition of churches, and the entire executive board consisted of pastors and bishops.
Michelle reiterated, “I promise I’ll do better. Just please don’t fire me. I’ve got bills to pay.”
“Michelle, all you have to do to keep from being terminated is come to work. It’s as simple as that. For the next ninety days, I don’t care if your baby is sick. Ask your mama to watch him. Everyone knows how you abused the attendance policy. You have to show me that you value this opportunity, because there are a lot of people out here in need of a job. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ms. Ellis,” responded Michelle in a timid tone.
“I guess that’s it, then. I know you will do better.”
“I will,” she said again.
Michelle got to her feet and grabbed two or three tissues for the road. I was hoping she’d hurry and take the waterworks back to her own desk. I hated to seem unsympathetic, but I had a whole list of things to do that did not include me soothing anyone’s hurt feelings.
“Well, Sister Ellis, I’ll see you at church on Sunday.”
“All right, now.”
Soon after Michelle left, there was a knock on my office door. I hesitated to answer. I hoped that it wasn’t Michelle coming back, because I didn’t have anything else to say to her. The knock came again, more insistently. If it was Michelle, I couldn’t act like I wasn’t in my office. She had just walked out the door.
“Yes?” I called, hoping and praying that it was anyone other than Michelle.
“Maintenance.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the janitor coming to fix my broken chair. “Come in, please.”
The man who opened my office door was not a typical maintenance man. He had stepped right out of someone’s dreams. He was at least six foot two, had skin the color of coffee with cream and piercing light brown eyes. His dark hair was styled in a neat tapered fade. I wanted to reach out and touch him to make sure he was real.
I exhaled slowly and deliberately as he moved toward me in that tacky green uniform. Armani’d had this man in mind when he designed his first suit. But here he was, standing in front of my desk looking fine as I don’t know what, and asking me a question. I didn’t even hear what he was saying, though I distinctly saw his full, sensuous lips moving.
“Ms. Ellis? The chair. Where is it?”
I snapped out of my semi-trance and replied, “Oh. The chair. Uh, it’s over there in the corner.”
He smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Okay. I’ll just get busy fixing it for you.”
“All right.”
The expensive and broken chair had been a treat to myself. The office was already quite ornate without the addition of a six-hundred-dollar ergonomic chair. When I’d accepted the position of president, I’d had the office redecorated. I chose a subtle African theme that boasted some original, costly artwork and a mahogany-and-glass desk. Wooden blinds on the windows added the special touch that made the office my safe haven. The chair had been the pièce de résistance, but broke after two days of sitting in it. Ergonomic had definitely not meant heavy-duty.
I tried to get back to work while the man fixed the chair, but I was just a little bit distracted. Oh, who was I kidding? I was never going to get any work done with him in my office. It was on occasions like this that I really wished I looked like Lynette. She would have had no problem tossing her hair weave flirtatiously and asking the man out on a date.
He started humming while he broke the chair into what looked like a hundred pieces. His voice had a deep, rich, and soothing tone. It was frighteningly masculine. I supposed that he could probably sing like Luther or Barry.
“What are you humming?” I asked, trying to sound coquettish. It wasn’t working.
“I’m so sorry. I do that without even thinking. I must be disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” I responded, “it’s a lovely tune. I think I’ve heard it before.”
“It’s something my grandmother used to sing. A church hymn.”
“It’s nice.”
I turned to my computer screen and pulled up my e-mail before I said something completely out of character. As tenacious as I was in other areas of my life, I’d never been one of those women to pursue a man or even make the first move. I could single-handedly run a bank and graduate from college with honors, but when it came to talking to a man I went to pieces. I chalked it up to self-esteem issues, because I generally assumed the answer would be a flat-out, resounding no.
“Ms. Ellis, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, you may.” I answered, returning to my professional tone. The flirtatious femme was not working for me.
“How can a man like me get to know a woman like you?”
I laughed, because I didn’t know how else to respond. I hoped that it wasn’t his idea of a joke. Was I supposed to believe that this man, a perfect ten, wanted to get with me? He would’ve made the most beautiful woman in the office stop and stare.
“Ms. Ellis, what’s so funny?” He sounded offended.
I cleared my throat in a desperate attempt to regain my composure. “N-nothing. An inside joke.”
“I’ve seen you come into the office every morning, and I’ve wanted to talk to you. I didn’t think that a bank executive would give a janitor the time of day. I guess I was right.”
He couldn’t have been more wrong. “That’s not true. I mean, you could start by telling me your name.”
“Travis. Travis Moon.”
“Well, my name is Charmayne. So you can stop calling me Ms. Ellis.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Charmayne Ellis. After I fix this chair, do you think I could take you out for lunch?”
I wanted to say yes. I’d never been noticed by a man as fine as Travis. But the president of the company out on a lunch date with a building maintenance man? My colleagues just wouldn’t have gotten it. And as much as I wanted to say yes, I wasn’t exactly bold enough to swim against the tide. But hadn’t I just the night before asked the Lord to send me a husband? Could Travis have finally been my answer after so long? And were his eyes actually twinkling?
I offered the only rational reply: “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not? Oh, is it because I’m just a janitor? A low profession even for the blue-collar brothers.”
“My brother, you are jumping to conclusions. If you were the janitor at the McDonald’s down the street, then it wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t want to appear to be unprofessional to my staff.”
I watched a slow smile spread across his lips. “But you are attracted to me, right?”
I smiled back without responding to the question. I had learned from my beautiful friends to never put all my cards on the table. There would be no admissions on my part until Travis put himself out there. But who was I to even think about playing pretty-girl games? And why would I even want to play games if this man had been sent by the Lord?
Travis smiled, enjoying the game. “Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But how about this. What if I take you to a really secluded spot for dinner? I can guarantee there won’t be anyone there that you know, and you can meet me there.”
I bit my lip and tried to gather my wits. I knew three things about the man already. His name was Travis, he was fine, and he had a job. But I needed to know one more thing before I accepted a date.
“Travis, before I say yes I need to know if you are a Christian.” My voice trembled with nervousness. What if the answer was no?
Travis exhaled as if relieved. “Whew. You had me worried for a second. Yes, I am, and I love the Lord.”
I smiled, also relieved. “So what church do you go to?”
Travis stuck his chest out and responded proudly, “Jesus Our Redeemer, Church of God in Christ. It’s on Eighty-ninth and Superior.”
“I know it. It used to be a Catholic church, right?”
“Yes. That’s the one. So, what about you, Charmayne? Where do you worship?”
“Oh, me? I attend Bread of Life Apostolic.”
Travis’s eyes lit up. He asked excitedly, “So are you in ministry or anything like that?”
“No, well, not really. I’m not a preacher or evangelist if that’s what you’re asking. I do serve as an armor bearer for the First Lady.”
“That’s a ministry,” Travis stated matter-of-factly while his deft fingers moved fluidly over the chair components.
I had no idea how the man could concentrate. “Most people don’t see it that way. What about you?”
“I am a minister in training.”
“Well, all right.” It was my turn to be impressed.
Travis cocked his head to one side and grinned coyly. “So now, if you’re done interrogating me, will you go out with me?”
I laughed. “Wow. You’re persistent.”
Travis looked me up and down. “I like what I see. Is Saturday night okay?”
His stare sent a chill up my spine. “Yes, that’s fine,” I responded quickly. “Oh, no, wait. I’m in a wedding on Saturday.”
“Do you have a date for the evening?”
I wasn’t comfortable with what Travis was suggesting. “No . . . but . . .”
“But what? Is anyone from work going to be there?”
The nervousness had returned to my voice. “A few people.”
Travis bit his lip thoughtfully. “Well, it’s up to you, I suppose.”
It only took me a split second to decide. A man like Travis didn’t cross my path every day. Actually, a man like Travis had never crossed my path—not on purpose. Still, I almost couldn’t believe that I was writing the church address down on a piece of paper. It was the most impetuous thing I’d ever done in my life. I felt betrayed by my own limbs. My fingers were scribbling, and my head was steadily screaming No. My heart, of course, was a wide-open chasm aching for the possibility of love. And if not love, how about some romance? But why were scriptures coming to my memory—warning me? “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”
I handed Travis the address. “The wedding starts at two.”
“Thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, although I was almost sure that he’d invited himself.
“And by the way, your chair is fixed. Should be good as new.”
I walked over to the chair and sat down. As promised, it was fixed. Well, Travis had at least one talent. He was good with his hands. I allowed myself to imagine how they’d feel holding me. I thought that perhaps he could fix me.
The wedding day had finally come, and I was as nervous as the bride. After I invited Travis to the wedding, I begged Lynette to let my dress be just a little different from the other bridesmaids’. There was no way I was going to let this man see me in a strapless gown. I would’ve been too self-conscious, and he probably would have decided that I wasn’t so attractive after all. It took me two days to find a seamstress who’d make a jacket for my dress.
We were in the bathroom at the church, and Lynette was obsessing over everything. Her dress, her makeup, her shoes, and the imaginary pimple that she thought was emerging on the side of her nose. More importantly, she was having a critical case of last-minute wedding-day jitters.
“Lynette, you have to stop crying if you want this mascara to set,” I said after applying the mascara for the third time. “You’re going to be walking down the aisle looking like a raccoon.”
“I can’t do this, Charmayne. I’m not ready to get married.”
I dabbed at the streaking mascara. “Look, heifer, we are not going to go through that today. You are about to get married and you are going to be happy. Period.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know anyone who’s really happily married.” She truly looked worried.
“Yes, you do. Pastor and First Lady are happy.”
Lynette nodded as if suddenly relieved. “Okay, you’re right. But they’re the only ones I know who are truly happy.”
Alicia was storming around the restroom, trying to make sure everyone was ready to start, because the ceremony was set to begin in fifteen minutes. Some of the bridesmaids were still walking around in their undergarments. “All right, everyone! Let’s hustle. We’ve got a wedding to do in minus fourteen minutes. Charmayne, I need you to take off that thing you’re wearing over your dress.”
“It’s a jacket, and it goes with the dress.”
“You’re wearing that? Nobody told me about that.”
“Nobody had to tell you,” Lynette said. “Last time I checked this was my wedding. I don’t need your approval or permission for anything.”
Insulted, Alicia stomped away. Lynette started applying lipstick and smiling at her reflection in the window. She was a beautiful bride.
After blotting her lips with a tissue, Lynette said, “So tell me about this guy.”
“It can wait until after the wedding.”
“Girl, I need to get my mind off this thing for a minute. Tell me about the guy. What did you say his name was? Tony?”
“It’s Travis, and I don’t know what to say. So far he’s incredible, but we haven’t been on a date yet. We haven’t even had a real conversation.”
“Really? Then what’s so incredible about him?”
“Just wait until you see him.”
“He’s fine, huh?” she asked with a knowing glance.
I fanned my face as if the temperature in the room had risen ten degrees. “Girl, yes.”
“So how did you meet him?”
“Uh . . . well, I met him at work.”
For some reason, I was hesitant to tell Lynette that he was a maintenance man in my building. I was not embarrassed by his profession, but I thought that maybe she wouldn’t understand. I couldn’t even say that I understood.
“That’s good, Char. I told you to start looking at some of those executive brothas up in there.”
“Mmm-hmm . . . Oh, look,” I said, getting off the subject. “There’s Alicia lining everybody up. Must be time to get this show on the road.”
Lynette took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “This is it?”
“Yes, sweetie. This is it.”
Lynette embraced me, and it felt like it was for dear life. For a moment I thought that she really might be making a mistake marrying Jonathan. She seemed so unsure. I planned to keep the two of them in my prayers.
The bridesmaids were walking out, and I held Lynette’s trembling hand until it was my turn. I didn’t realize that my hands were trembling, too, until I let Lynette’s go. I’d pumped myself up so much that I didn’t know what I was going to do if I walked out there and didn’t see Travis.
A million things were going through my head as I walked down the church’s long center aisle. I was trying to smile for the photographs and not look too anxious that I didn’t see Travis in the crowd. I wouldn’t have been crushed if he wasn’t here, because something inside told me that the whole thing was one huge practical joke.
I got to the front of the church and took my post, right next to where Lynette would be standing. I took a deep breath and looked out over the congregation. I wanted to sigh with relief when I saw Travis sitting in the third row. He smiled at me and winked. I smiled back, and then I felt a jab in my back.
“What are you doing?” Alicia hissed in my ear. “He’s smiling at me.”
I wanted to burst into giggles, but I maintained my composure. She would find out at the reception. I couldn’t even explain how good it felt to capture a man’s attention over someone who was thin, perfectly pretty, and available. It was like a victory for all big girls around the world.
I floated through the rest of the ceremony on a cloud. After the newlywed couple was introduced to the church, the entire wedding party was asked to stay in front of the church to receive the guests. I had no problem smiling and hugging and kissing the people in the line, even though some of them were virtual strangers.
Finally Travis approached. He patted the flower girls on the head, but bypassed all the other bridesmaids and came up to me. Alicia’s mouth was hanging open like an unlatched trapdoor. Travis grabbed my hands and kissed the backs of both of them.
“Ms. Ellis, you look amazing. I’m so happy you invited me.”
Lynette saw Travis. I could tell that she was shocked, but she nodded with approval. I was sure she wasn’t expecting Travis to be as fine as he was. His eyes were dancing in the sunlight that poured in from the church windows. Travis’s eyelashes were so long and dark that they almost looked feminine.
“Thank you for coming. I’d like you to meet the bride and my best friend, Lynette. Lynette, meet Travis Moon.”
“Well, Mr. Moon, what do you want with my friend?” asked Lynette, and in a tone that was only half joking.
“Honestly, I want her to be my lady. Is that okay with you?”
Lynette smiled and said, “Only if you really mean that.”
“Well, I mean it. Charmayne, I’ll meet you later on at the reception. Did I tell you that you look amazing?”
Travis walked away from the line and Lynette elbowed me in my ribs. “Girl, you weren’t lying when you said he was fine!”
“He looks even better today than the first time I saw him.”
She squeezed my hand. “Well, it’s about time, girlfriend.”
Next in line was Marvin Baker. He shook hands with Jonathan and hugged Lynette. I waited patiently for him to pass me by without acknowledging me. He shocked me by standing in front of me with his arms outstretched. I warily gave him a polite church hug.
“How are you doing, Charmayne?”
“I’m blessed. Thank you for asking.” I was extremely perplexed. It had only been a week since he had tried to avoid speaking to me.
“You look nice,” he added as he quickly moved down the line, leaving me even more flabbergasted.
Ebony, who was next in line, giggled and asked, “What do you think that was all about?”
I shrugged. “Marvin? I don’t know.”
“You are prime real estate now, honey,” Lynette put in. “Travis is way up the food chain from the likes of Marvin.”
Ebony’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. That light-skinned brother you were talking to was Travis? Does he have any brothers?”
I laughed at the sad irony of it all. Why was I only validated in Marvin’s eyes because of Travis’s attention? Why couldn’t I be judged on my own qualities? First Lady was right, though. Brother Marvin had missed out on something good.
I continued to greet Lynette’s unending line of guests, but my mind was elsewhere. I just couldn’t stop thinking of Travis. He was real and I wasn’t dreaming! A smile spread across my face and parked itself there—I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t wait to get to the reception, just to see him again.
The entire bridal party arrived at the reception hall early, because we had tons of photos to take. The reception venue was breathtakingly beautiful. There was a private garden in the rear of the building, complete with every flower imaginable. On the far side of the garden was an enclosed pond that was home to about ten white swans. The place couldn’t be any more romantic.
Usually, I was not a picture person. I always started out with an upbeat attitude about the whole thing, thinking that maybe I wouldn’t look fat when I finally saw the photos. But it never failed. And I wasn’t talking about the camera adding ten pounds. I was talking about coming to terms with the reality of how big I really was. When I looked in the mirror, I automatically imagined myself thinner. All it took was one really bad photo to bring a big girl back to reality.
The whole process was depressing. The night of the wedding, however, I became a virtual camera hog. Having a man like Travis on my arm was an ego boost. My newfound confidence had me posing with the likes of Alicia and hamming it up for the camera. I was probably setting myself up to have a heart attack when I saw the pictures, but for the moment I was living diva-style.
After the photography was done, the wedding party was announced as we walked into the reception. Of course, the first thing I did when I walked into the room was locate Travis. I guess I was still in utter disbelief that he was even there. He was sitting at a table full of beautiful sisters, but he didn’t seem to notice any of them. He grinned at me from across the room, and I tried to smile demurely.
As soon as we were seated, the wait staff started dishing up the food for the bridal party. I saw that Lynette had spared none of her new husband’s expenses on the catering. Who really needed lobster tail and filet mignon? She could have fed these greedy people baked chicken and meatballs, and they would’ve been satisfied.
As the bridal party enjoyed their meal, guests stood up to toast the happy newlyweds. After each toast Jonathan kissed Lynette as if to seal the words of encouragement. Travis shocked me when he rose to his feet, glass in hand. Since he’d only just met Lynette and Travis, I wondered what he could possibly have to say.
“Now, I just met this couple today, and immediately I felt the Spirit of the Lord reveal to me that they were bound for a lifetime of happiness,” Travis said. “I would like to toast Jonathan and Lynette that they should keep God first in their union. Through all of life’s ups and downs, Jesus will keep you. For richer or poorer, He’s a waymaker, and through sickness and health, He’s still a healer! To Jonathan and Lynette!”
I felt a huge smile spread across my lips. I was touched by Travis’s toast. It seemed as if he’d just preached a message, what with all of the “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” that were heard from the other guests. I felt blessed to have him interested in me.
That night was a night of firsts, because it was another one of my hard-and-fast rules to avoid the dance floor at all costs. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy dancing, but since I was seldom asked, I usually ended up dancing in a group of desperate-looking women or worse—doing line dances. I think a lonely woman invented the line dance. She probably got sick of going out to parties and nightclubs holding up the wall, and just started making up steps for every new song that hit the airwaves.
But the night of the wedding, everything was different. I had a date, and he belonged to me. I had a partner for every song. If I wanted to, I could get sore feet that night, and not just because my shoes were too tight.
The bride and groom had their first dance and then the bridal party danced. The best man didn’t look too thrilled about having to slow-dance with me, so I did him a favor and extended my hand for an old-school 1970s-style hand dance. I probably should have been offended, but with Travis in the room I didn’t even care that the brother thought dancing with a big girl would ruin his game.
When all the wedding formalities were over, Travis made his way over to the bridal party table. I could see that a dozen pairs of eyes followed him across the room.
Travis said, “Miss Ellis, may I please have this dance?”
I did my best to stifle the silly giggle that wanted to escape from my lips. “Yes, you may.”
Travis was the perfect gentleman, his left hand resting high on my waist, but not high enough to graze my breast. His right hand was entwined with mine as he swept me across the floor effortlessly, as if I were weightless.
I couldn’t believe that I was thirty-six years old and having my first real slow dance. It was so different from those obligatory gestures of a family member or friend to keep a girl from feeling left out. It was a real slow dance, from a man who found me attractive and was interested in me.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing all my senses to enjoy Mr. Travis Moon. He smelled incredible, almost intoxicating. I thought he was wearing Nautica or Burberry cologne, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t what you would call a connoisseur of men’s fragrances. His breath even smelled good. It reminded me of the peppermint tea that my grandmother used to drink when I was a child.
I tried to make myself think straight. I couldn’t let myself get too caught up too quickly. I knew absolutely nothing about Travis. If I kept letting my senses have their way, I’d be sprung on the man before I even knew his middle name. When did I get that shallow? I opened my eyes and tried to bring myself back down to earth.
“So, Travis, are you enjoying the reception?” I asked, hoping that conversation would cool the heat I felt rising within me.
“Yes, I am. I thought I’d never get to dance with you, though. The dinner was so long and drawn out.”
“It was long, wasn’t it? That’s just like Lynette. She’s the only sister I know who wants a five-course meal for her wedding reception.”
Travis laughed. “You’re right about that. Most of us just end up having that soul food buffet thing.”
“Mmm-hmm. Spaghetti, chicken, meatballs . . .”
“Dressing and yams.”
“Knowing those foods don’t even go together!”
“That’s all right, though! Everybody always leaves full and with a to-go plate!”
I put my hand on my chest to try to contain my laughter. “Travis, you are funny. Too funny.”
“Well, I like hearing you laugh. It sounds like music.”
That caught me off guard. Where in the world was Travis getting these compliments? If nothing else, he was an original. “I like your laugh, too, Travis.”
I needed to pinch myself to make sure that it was all real. I knew that this had to be of the Lord. Travis had every single last qualification on my husband must-have list. In order for me to even think about getting serious with a man, he needed a job, he had to have some level of intelligence, and he had to be saved. Travis didn’t just have the must-haves, he even had the icing. A part of me was concerned, though. It was that irritating little part of me that contains a trait called common sense.
I knew that I was playing devil’s advocate with my next question, but I just had to know. “Travis, why are you here with me?”
“What kind of question is that? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. You could have any woman in this room, and I’m sure you’ve got sisters chasing you down at your own church. So why are you with me?”
“I know you might not believe this, but some men happen to be attracted to beautiful, successful women. I’m one of them.”
“Come on, Travis. You know what I’m getting at.”
“I also am one of those men who adore big women. I admit it. There’s a certain comforting quality to a plus-size black woman.”
I squinted my eyes and pursed my lips. “Oh, so I remind you of Big Mama, huh?”
Travis laughed. “Actually, I didn’t have a Big Mama. My grandmother was about ninety pounds soaking wet. I think it goes back to eating pancakes.”
“What?”
Travis responded with a straight face. “Well, we always had Aunt Jemima’s syrup on the table. She was nice and round, and I just felt right after a stack of pancakes.”
I’d heard a lot of tales in my day, but that one took the cake. I guessed it shouldn’t have mattered how he got to love big women.
Travis burst into laughter. “Charmayne! You look like you’re about to choke on a chicken bone! I’m joking, girl.”
“Oh. I’m glad.”
“Honestly, I don’t know why I like big women. It’s just a preference, I guess.”
“Okay. I accept that. But I have another question.”
“All right. Go ahead and interrogate me.”
“You didn’t even know that I was saved when you asked me out. So . . . why did you?” I almost didn’t even want to know the answer to this one.
“That’s easy. God told me to, clear as day. As a matter of fact, I’ve never heard the voice of the Lord that distinctly.”
I was speechless. I’d accepted so many negative things in the past with reference to men and myself that I was totally willing to embrace something positive. And Travis loving big women “just because” was better than positive—it was miraculous.
After we finished dancing, Travis and I decided to take a walk around the courtyard. I appreciated the fact that he didn’t presumptuously try to hold my hand. It was only our first date. Besides, I could not have handled him touching me—I was still giddy from the dancing.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Travis remarked.
I nodded, not feeling the need to respond out loud. The silence was not uncomfortable, though. Travis seemed content to reflect on the beauty of his surroundings while I pondered on his beauty.
Inaudibly, I sent up a prayer of thanksgiving. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesus. You said that you would give me the desires of my heart, Lord. You have done over and above that with this man. Teach me how to be the woman he needs . . .