22
Shante lay on the bed with her legs propped up by one of the pillows. Her phone was perched between her ear and shoulder as she listened to Max talk. She only had about six hours of sleep. Under normal circumstances, this would have been more than enough. Now, she could use another six hours. It could be the baby or the fact that she was getting older. Whichever it was, she had to get up, pray and study for her sermon this evening.
“The polls show I’m in the lead. This has been a difficult race,” Max said.
Shante tried hard to focus on the conversation, but she was exhausted. The conversation last night was intense. However, she, Misha and Deandrea had a breakthrough. They had issues that took each other to sort through.
Misha was right; she and Max had to repent. She would talk to him when she got home. She couldn’t bring up something so deep with him now. He was excited about being in the lead in the race for councilman. She couldn’t burst his bubble by talking about sins of the past. It was not that serious. They did get married.
Last night was the first time she realized that she had drawn Max into her abuse. She tried to keep their relationship secret for a long time. She learned how to keep secrets when her ex-husband was abusing her. She didn’t want anyone to find out what was happening in their house. She became an expert at excuses for fear it may ruin the way people thought about them. She tried to uphold their elite middle-class lifestyle and gave the appearance that everything was fine. She learned to cover up the evidence of abuse by makeup and hiding. No one ever knew until she left him.
Shante thought she had been delivered from her secret lifestyle. She still hung onto a few secrets, though. The summer of passion she spent with Max was only a residue of the abuse she still clung to. They knew it was wrong, even when it felt right. They convinced themselves they were getting married anyway and it was okay. They even had a secret ceremony with only the two of them where they recited the wedding vows to make themselves feel better about what they were doing.
Shante didn’t realize it then, but that summer, she and Max were out of the will of God. They had spent the entire summer sneaking around with each other—living their secret life. It amazed her that two pastors could easily walk in sin and not feel guilty. For years, she had ministered to others regarding fornication, and she ended up doing it herself. How could she condemn them when she did the same thing?
“How are you and the baby?” Max asked, drawing her back into the conversation.
“We are doing fine. We wish we were home.”
Shante ended her call with Max and quickly fell asleep. The following morning she woke up early and ordered food from room service for herself and Deandrea.
Shante sat down to eat when Deandrea walked sluggishly from her room with her hair sticking straight up in the air as if she was Buckwheat’s twin sister. “What are you eating?” she asked Shante, who was hunched over her plate.
“I ordered enough for both of us.”
Deandrea reached for the coffee pot and poured the dark brew into a cup. She pulled out a chair and sat. Her eyes were weak with big puffy circles under them. Shante was afraid to ask her what happened with Jarrod.
“What time did you go to bed?” Shante asked.
“About five,” Deandrea said with a wide smile. “Jarrod and I talked a long time. I think we are beginning to understand each other.”
“That’s good. Looks as if everything is going to work out.”
“Girl, if he had been here last night, I would just be getting some sleep now. We haven’t talked like that in a long time. We laughed. He was doing his impersonations again. We talked about everything but the church. He even apologized to me, and I think it’s real this time. I can’t wait to get home. He said he was taking all of next week off so we can spend some time together.” Deandrea reached for a piece of toast.
“God is working in all of our lives. Last night was something, wasn’t it?”
“We all needed it. We had to release all those things we have been keeping inside for years. I feel great. I know God is in this. He uncovered things that had been covered for years. God won’t allow us to hold this stuff in anymore. He’s making us whole.”
“Amen, sister. I think we all needed it.” Shante took a swallow of her orange juice. “Hey, Max called. He said the polls have him in the lead in this election.”
For the first time in this trip, Deandrea seemed more interested in someone other than herself. “That’s fantastic. I have to call and congratulate him.” Deandrea raced to her phone that sat in its charging cradle.
Shante smiled. This was the friend she knew. She always had a way of encouraging people and making them believe they could do anything. Shante sat listening to the brief conversation on the speakerphone. When Deandrea hung up, her phone rang. It was her husband. She held the phone to her ear and picked up a muffin with her other hand; then she turned and walked into her room, kicking the door closed behind her.
There was a knock at the door. Shante walked to open it, hoping it was not Misha wanting to go to the morning session. She looked through the peephole and saw her daughter.
“Oh my goodness,” she said as she pulled open the door. “Camille, what are you doing here?”
“Hi, Mom! Surprise!” Camille walked into the room wearing her pink city coat and gray slacks.
“Camille? I wasn’t expecting you here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I thought I would surprise you.” They embraced each other. Camille walked to the center of the room and pulled off her coat, flinging it onto the coffee table. “Mom, look at you. Why aren’t you dressed? It’s almost lunchtime. I thought we could get some lunch. I know you want to have the rest of the afternoon to prepare for your sermon.”
Deandrea walked out of her room and screamed when she saw Camille. She ran to embrace Shante’s younger twin. “Camille, Shante didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I didn’t tell her,” Camille replied, smiling.
Deandrea spotted the large pear-shaped ring on Camille’s finger, and she screamed again as she lifted her hand. “Look at this rock! That Aaron has good taste. I know you can’t wait to get married.”
“Actually, we decided to postpone the wedding.”
Shante stopped chewing the muffin in her mouth. She quickly swallowed and said, “What do you mean postponed.”
“We talked about it, and I wanted to have my little sister or brother at the wedding. So we are going to get married in the summer or fall. We haven’t decided on a date yet. But it will be after you have the baby.”
Shante was relieved. That sounded reasonable to her . . . until it hit her—Camille doesn’t want her pregnant mother in her wedding. She’s embarrassed. She had thought Camille was more mature than that.
“As much as I wanted a brother or sister, I’m not going to miss having him at my wedding. Aaron didn’t want to change it. I think he’s mad right now. He’ll get over it.” Camille flung her hand in the air and walked to the table and picked up a strawberry and put it in her mouth.
Shante shook her head. Camille was spoiled. Now she was acting selfish. She had to learn that marriage was a compromise. She’d obviously made up her mind, and it sounded as if she didn’t discuss it further with Aaron. Shante suddenly realized how Aaron must feel having someone making an important decision about his life without discussing it with him. She had to speak with Camille privately.
Noticing the stunned look on Shante’s face, Deandrea walked into her room to get dressed.
“Camille, I will talk to you later about this. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Camille sat in the chair next to Shante. “I’m sure, Mom. I’m so excited.”
Shante gazed at her child. Camille was not saying something. She was going to have to pray before she spoke with her.
“Sorry I can’t stay. I’ve got sound check. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Deandrea said when she entered the room a short time later. She slid her arm in her jacket and headed for the door.
“I’ve got to study for my message tonight. Before you go, will you show Camille how to get to the mall?”
“You trying to get rid of me?” Camille asked.
“No. I haven’t had time to study yet. I need to go before the Lord. Why don’t you guys call Misha to go with you? She can help you pick out something for me to wear tonight.”
“That’s a good idea.” Deandrea made the call, and within a few minutes, Misha was at the door. Shante introduced her to Camille; then the group left the room.
Relieved she was now alone, Shante had to go before the Lord. She didn’t know what she was going to preach. She thought she had the perfect sermon, but things had changed. What she really wanted to do was take a nap. She looked at the clock. If she took an hour’s nap, she still had enough time to study. It sounded like a plan to her. She headed for her bed.