And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
—Matthew 7:3
“Avis, you must tell me everything. I mean everything!”
Marcella said over the telephone.
“Oh, girl! Xavier is like a totally different man. He actually took off from work for three and a half weeks. Do you hear what I’m saying? Not three and a half hours, which was a job trying to get him to do in the past, three and a half whole weeks. I feel like I’m having an affair with another man, he’s just that different.”
“That sounds like real love to me. But the man’s not crazy even if he deals with folks with crazy issues from time to time on his job,” Marcella said.
“Marcella, don’t say that. The people he helps have problems just like the rest of us, only theirs can be more magnified on scales we can’t begin to imagine. Many of them deal with their problems differently than maybe you or I, and they may, sometimes, need help reeling things in.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was trying to make a joke, but it was a bad one and in bad taste. Tell me though, did you guys rekindle any of your old flames?”
Avis laughed. “Rekindle? Girl, we almost burned the house and a few hotels down! I told you it’s been like cheating on my husband with another man. He and I got away by ourselves for a few days, and were I to write a book about it—all I can say is: MM had better watch out!
“Speaking of MM, have you finished reading her latest book yet?” Avis asked, referring to one of the hottest authors of fiction burning up the best-sellers’ charts with number-one books one right after the other.
“Finished it?” Marcella said. “Girl, there were places in that book where I had to set it down, do you hear me, walk to the freezer, stick my head inside just to cool myself off. And I was not having hot flashes either. I got so turned on, I tell you what—I was glad I was married. Bentley didn’t know what got into me that night! I will say though—I do feel for the single women who read MM’s work, because that girl knows she can paint a picture that leaves nothing, do you hear me, nothing for the imagination to have to fill in. When that dark-skinned, chocolate, fine brother walked in and saw that woman on the couch without a stitch of clothes on and only those pink, fluffy, high-heel, house shoes, girl, I was right there with them, do you hear me,” Marcella said. She looked up right into Bentley’s face. He stood there, staring at her, not cracking a smile.
“Well, MM can flat out write some scenes, that’s all I can say,” Avis said. “However, I have been feeling a little guilty about reading her work here of late. Especially being a Christian and taking my walk with the Lord more seriously than I did in the past. But then I picked up this Christian fiction book the other day, and some of those scenes in that book were just as hot; it didn’t leave much for me to fill in either. So I figure it must be okay. People say we should keep it real and tell the truth. The truth is this stuff happens even in Christian homes. Ask Xavier; after these past weeks he can testify.”
Marcella had become a bit distracted by Bentley’s stare. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? My mind wandered there for a minute.”
“Look, I’ve got things to do here, so whatever it is that just grabbed your attention, maybe you should go and handle your business.” Avis laughed. “Yeah, and while you’re at it, tell Bentley I said hello.” She laughed again.
Marcella gave a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah. I’ll do that.” She placed the phone back in its holder after saying good-bye. “That was Avis,” Marcella said to Bentley. “She’s back home now. They came back earlier this week. She said to tell you hello.”
“That’s nice. So she and Xavier have worked things out? I know you said she’d sort of left him to go visit with her mother. Then Xavier showed up down there.”
“Yeah, they worked things out. And it sounds like they had a great time doing it, too. She sounds more like a teenager in love for the first time than some old, married woman with four children.”
Bentley moved his head as though he were trying to pop a kink out of it, first to the right, then the left. “So, you two were talking about some dark-skinned, fine, chocolate brother making out with his woman, huh? Is that from the book you’ve been reading the past few nights? The one on your nightstand with the half-naked man and the extra-sexy, barely covered woman on the cover?”
Marcella smiled nervously. “It’s just a book, Bentley. Fiction. It has this great story line. It’s about this woman who is a Christian living a double life no one knows about. You know, the same-old-same-old kind of stuff you find in books these days.”
“Books that cause you to see other people naked and doing the ‘do’ only using your mind?”
“Look, Bentley. This is not the same thing you’re dealing with. And I don’t even feel like trying to defend a novel with words, not real pictures. There is a difference.”
“Yeah. A lot of guys I know say they only buy Playboy and Hustler magazines for their great articles. Just like you, only you buy your books strictly for their great story lines.”
“Bentley, there is a difference!” Marcella said it more piercing than she had meant to.
“If that’s what you want to believe, Marcella. But in my world, pictures in a person’s head are just as real as the pictures my natural eyes see outside my head.” He leaned down and kissed her. “But you know what? I’m not trying to get the splinter out of your eye. Not while I’m working on the plank in my own. I have an appointment with Pastor Landris in three weeks—”
“Oh, Bentley, you were able to get an earlier appointment? That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah. They say a bunch of people decided to schedule with other counselors and that freed up Pastor Landris. If you still want to go with me, you’re welcome to come.”
“Of course I want to go with you. I’m your wife. I want to support you through this.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Okay.” He kissed her again, grinned even more, and walked out of the room. “In the meantime, I think I’ll go check out the book on your nightstand,” he yelled back. “I need a quick fix!”
“Bentley? Bentley?” Marcella said, chasing behind him. “What do you mean by that crack? Bentley?! You come back here and tell me exactly what you meant by that!”