Forever Soul Ties

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.

After Zeke stormed out, I walked the floor for a little while. And before I knew anything, I was on the floor on my knees, praying and crying. Not because he’d left the way he had. Not because I thought he was most likely having an affair. If he was, I was not the kind of woman that would be checking around trying to find out, that’s for sure. And it was not part of my nature to fight another woman over some man, either. Zeke knew that. I’d already told him, years ago, that if he ever wanted to be with someone else, he was always welcome to get his stuff and leave. He could go live with whomever he pleased. I’m not going to beg a man to stay with me.

But Zeke wasn’t going to do that. Zeke knew what a good woman he had in me. He wasn’t going to walk away from me. The man was just greedy. Knowing him, he would want to keep the both of us. And since I don’t really know how many women he may have been with, I can’t say how serious he’s been about anyone else, other than me. I only know how long he’s been with me.

I wasn’t going to ride around to see if I could find his car parked at someone’s house or outside an apartment building or hotel. I wasn’t going to put a tape recorder under our bed or tap the phone to record his conversations. I wasn’t going to rifle through his things trying to find out whether he had someone else or not and if someone, who that person was. I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to.

I just wasn’t.

Now my friend Shelia was totally different. She’d done all of those things and more. And even when she found proof that her husband was cheating on her, to the point where she learned her husband had fathered a child with one of his other women, she still stayed with him. Talking about “But I love him. I don’t want to live without him. I just know, if we try, we can make this work. God can heal our marriage.”

Okay. They say love covers a multitude of sins. Shelia was proving that out.

So I asked her, “What was the point in finding out he was cheating on you if you weren’t going to do anything about it?”

“I just wanted to know,” Shelia said. “I needed to know. That way I knew how to proceed.” She sighed and looked at me as though I was the enemy. “This is spiritual warfare,” she said. “The devil is trying to destroy godly marriages, and I’m not going to let him win.”

“So you’re proceeding by letting your husband stay there with you while it sounds like he’s still seeing her? I don’t get it. How is that defeating the devil?”

“Jermaine is trying to break it off with her,” Shelia said of her husband. “But that woman is a psycho!”

“Well, if she’s truly a psycho, it would seem to me that Jermaine would be running as fast as he can to get away from her.”

“He wants to get out, believe me, he does. But you know they have that child together now,” Shelia said. “You know how that can be. It’s not the child’s fault his mother is crazy and has no morals other than to sleep with another woman’s husband. And the child is such a cute little boy. You know I have four girls and you know how much Jermaine always wanted a son. I believe this is going to work. I’m praying it’s going to work. I just need you to touch and agree with me that it does.” She held out her hand for me to touch it.

I just shook my head. “Shelia, you know: sometimes there’s crazy that even a pill can’t fix.”

“I know, right?” she said with a lift in her voice, apparently not realizing I’d totally left her hand hanging out to dry.

I think she actually may have thought what I said about crazy and a pill that I was talking exclusively about Jermaine’s other woman. I didn’t even try and explain that one to her. She was my friend and I would be there when she needed me. Hel-lo!

* * *

Back to my own troubles. I was there on the floor by the couch praying. Praying helps me so much. I know a lot of people think that praying really doesn’t change things all that much. Some folks say that you pray and oftentimes the problem is still staring you in the face when you get finished. But it really does help . . . me at least. I’d calmed down greatly; a perfect peace surrounded me when I was finished.

I showered and changed into my nightgown. As I crawled into the bed, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was way past Zynique’s curfew and she hadn’t come home yet. She hadn’t called, unless she’d called while I was in the shower. I checked the caller ID. Someone had called five minutes after ten. It was a blocked number. I was trying to think how I’d missed hearing the phone ring during that time. I hadn’t gotten into the shower until after midnight.

It most likely happened when I went outside right after Zeke drove away. I’d gone outside for a minute just because I couldn’t believe he’d been that blatantly bold as to walk out on me like that. Usually when we’re arguing, he stays around until I’ve exhausted my words. He had to know I wasn’t buying this coincidence theory: him trying to get out of the house, the phone ringing, a woman just happening to call the wrong number, and then he takes off—in a made-up huff of course, all because of me.

When we first got married he did that stuff, making it like it was always my fault. I did think it was my fault back then. I’d profoundly and sincerely apologize for things I didn’t even cause. Yes, he most certainly did get me in the beginning of our marriage. But with age comes wisdom, at least for some it does. When I figured out what he was doing, I was done letting him manipulate me. He hadn’t completely stopped what he was doing; he was merely attempting to hone his craft.

* * *

Zynique and Zeke came in the house at almost the same time. Zeke pulled into the garage and Zynique came through the front door five minutes after he turned off his car. I’m certain they saw each other. They couldn’t have helped but.

I wanted to get up and confront them both. And had they arrived at separate times, I probably would have. But I didn’t want to fuss with Zynique about breaking curfew when I really wanted to let Zeke have it for walking out on me like he had. I didn’t want Zynique to have to hear me yelling at her father (as I’m sure she was tired of hearing) about what had just taken place on the night she was celebrating her monumental accomplishment.

Besides, had I said anything to Zynique, Zeke would have just taken up for her, once again painting me as the bad guy. And if I had said anything to Zeke, then Zynique would have felt justified in the assessment she’d made about me when she was twelve. “Nobody likes you! You’re mean. And I feel sorry for Daddy! You’re the reason he doesn’t ever want to be at home. It’s all because of you!”

That had really cut me to the bone, all the way to the white of the bone. Not because she was right. It was because she felt that way. She felt I was mean. That I made life so difficult that the only adult in the household, who had a right to stand up to me, couldn’t take being around me.

So I decided to leave the two of them alone. And when Zeke came into the bedroom and said that he knew I wasn’t asleep and that we should talk, I “played possum” (pretended to be asleep) and didn’t say a word.

He crawled into the bed and tried to invade my side of it. I scooted over until I was practically on the edge. When he continued to scoot in my direction, I got up and went to Zanetta’s old bedroom. Only thing: I couldn’t go to sleep. So I stared at the ceiling and once again decided to just pray.

“Lord, I need some help down here. I don’t think I can take much more of this. I don’t. Please, Lord, be a lifter of my spirits. Please . . .”

One thing about the devil is that he has a way of figuring out the weak points in our lives. Not because he’s God, who happens to be omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. But because that crafty little devil and his little imps listen in on the words that we speak and they observe our every action. The devil can pinpoint precisely the area where we’re the most vulnerable and, most times, we’re the ones who end up letting him know just where that area is.

Well, he must have been watching and listening to me and my conversations. He definitely knew all of my weaknesses, at least at this point in the game.

And the root of it could pretty much be traced right back to my own home!