Chapter 5

The next morning her ringing cell phone woke Deborah. Well, actually, she was already awake when the phone rang. She had woken up when she heard Lynox get out of bed and go to the bathroom. She hadn’t gotten out of bed herself, though. She’d lain there and feigned sleep. What was she supposed to do after such a dramatic night? Wake up and say in a singsongy voice, “Good morning, honey,” as if nothing had happened? Not happening, so she had just laid there, paralyzed like a scared possum, and listened to her husband mill about.

She’d heard the water running and him sifting through clothes in their walk-in closet. She’d heard the dresser drawer slam one time. He must have been retrieving a pair of socks. She’d heard another drawer slam. A T-shirt. She’d remained still, replaying in her head all her regrets from last night. If only she could take it all back, hit the rewind button, and have some sort of do over. Even if she couldn’t erase all her erratic actions, if she could only change one thing, it would be that she had not let the sun go down on her wrath. Or was it Lynox’s wrath? After all, he’d been the one storming around this morning with a chip on his shoulder, slamming the bathroom door, the drawers in the bathroom, the medicine cabinet door, the closet door, and then finally the front door. He’d done so much slamming and stomping, Deborah was almost certain she’d heard his dress shoes abusing the walkway that led to the driveway, where his car happened to be parked.

He’d done all that without saying a single word to Deborah. Well, actually, he’d said four.

“You going to church?” Those were the words he’d asked Deborah before he stormed out of their bedroom. She’d simply ignored him, as she hadn’t been certain if it was an invite for her to go with him or if he was trying to figure out if she was going at all. And if she was going, she’d reasoned, he would have opted not to go himself.

What Deborah had wanted to say was, “Negro, how you gon’ ask me am I going to church after you done showered, shaved, got dressed, and are on your way out the door?” But things were already heated between the two of them. She hadn’t want the situation to catch fire.

A part of Deborah had kept nagging at her to get out of that bed and carry her tail on to church. After all, this was the day that the Lord had made. She should be rejoicing and be glad in it. Instead she was mad in it. Mad in her bed. Besides, had she gone to church this morning, it would have only been because it was what she felt was the Christian thing to do. How could she call herself a Christian if she didn’t go to church? However, she’d never really read anywhere that going to church was one of the requirements of being allowed to call one’s self a Christian. There had been times when she did look forward to Sunday service. As of late, though, church had started to feel more and more like a requirement, rather than something she looked forward to doing. In the past few weeks, just thinking about having to get up out of bed and go to church had practically ruined her Saturday evenings.

She hadn’t experienced that feeling of loathing in the face of having to get up and go somewhere since she worked in corporate America. Back then it was her Sunday evenings that were ruined, as she dreaded having to get up and go to work on Monday morning.

Several months ago New Day had started an 8:00 a.m. service. Deborah loved going to that service because she could get church over with early and have the rest of her day to do what she pleased. The early morning service wasn’t as long as the late morning service, either. There was no way service could go over, because they had to make sure the church was cleared out and ready for the next service. Undisputedly, the later service was easier to attend, since she had to get the boys ready, but it was worth the sacrifice to attend the early morning one every blue moon.

Typically, it was only she and the boys who went to church. Every now and then Lynox would attend, if he woke up feeling chipper and full of life. Usually, it was after something good had happened, like him making the best sellers’ list or something. He had attended enough to know everybody at church, and everybody knew him. Everyone was aware that he traveled a lot for his book signings, so when he was absent, they never knew if he was out of town or if he had opted to sleep in and get his Sunday lesson from the Word Network or from one of the church DVDs Deborah had purchased from the church bookstore. So it had absolutely surprised Deborah when she realized that today Lynox was heading to church. Nothing good had happened the night before to make him want to go give thanks.

That was why at first she hadn’t been sure if he was getting up and going to church, or getting up to pack his bags and leave her. That was how angry she had made him last night. When she’d peeked from under the covers and looked through the open bathroom door, she’d seen that he was wearing a suit when he finally exited the closet. Surely, he wasn’t going to get all jazzy just to go to a Motel 6. But he’d removed all doubt about where he was heading when he asked her if she was going to church.

Deborah had declined his invitation, if that was what it was, even though church might have been exactly where she needed to be with her man this morning. Either way she looked at it, she wouldn’t have been there for God, which was the real reason why anyone should want to go. She would have been there praying that the sermon moved Lynox to forgive her and forget last night. It would have been all about her and her wants and needs, not about giving God glory just because He was God.

Deborah pulled the comforter over her head. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to hide from her miserable thoughts about last night or from the annoying ringing of her cell phone. After a couple more rings, the phone stopped. She pulled the covers back down to her chest and stared at the ceiling. That was when it hit her that it could have been Lynox calling her. Maybe on his drive to church he had had a change of heart and wanted to make amends with her. Deborah shot up in bed to get the phone so that she could check her missed call. Before she could even pick the phone up, it started ringing again. Deborah hurriedly reached for it and tumbled right out of the bed and onto the floor. That didn’t stop her from snatching the phone from the nightstand and taking it down with her.

“Hello,” Deborah said, out of breath, as she sat on the floor and leaned up against the nightstand.

“Well, I called to see if I needed to get the boys ready for church, but from the sounds of it, you and the hubby got anything but Jesus on y’all’s mind.”

Deborah let out a sigh when she heard her mother’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Oh, hey, Ma.” She couldn’t have hidden the disappointment in her tone even if she’d wanted to.

“Well, don’t sound so excited to talk with me,” Mrs. Lewis said.

“It’s not that. It’s just—”

“Oh, spare me the details.”

Deborah let out a sigh, pulled herself up off the floor, and sat down on the bed. “Mom, please. Lynox isn’t even here. He already left for church.”

“Oh.” She sounded a little surprised. “And you didn’t go?”

“No. I, uh . . .” Deborah didn’t want to lie to her mother. But, on the other hand, she didn’t want to tell her what had transpired between her and Lynox, either. Deborah was a strong believer in the notion that a married couple should not share their issues with friends or family. Outsiders tended to stir the pot and offer what they personally would or wouldn’t do. But to each his own. Not everyone handled things the same way as others. What worked for one person might very well be the thing that brought the house of cards down for another. “I was still in bed when he left.”

“Overslept, huh?” her mother said, making a false assumption, and Deborah let her.

“So how are the boys?” Deborah quickly changed the subject.

“You know Grandma’s babies don’t ever give her any trouble.”

Deborah could hear her mother planting a kiss on the baby, presumably. She imagined her mother had him right there in her arms. Although Tyson stayed with his grandmother all the time, it wasn’t until just recently that she had started keeping Tatum. She had a thing about keeping babies before they were three months old. They were way too new and small for her comfort.

“So what time are you coming to get them?” Mrs. Lewis asked.

Deborah chuckled under her breath. They might not be giving Grandma any trouble, but Grandma was ready for them to go. “I’m going to text Lynox and have him pick them up on his way home from church. Is that okay?” If Deborah didn’t have to get out of that bed anytime soon, she wouldn’t.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll make sure they’re all packed up and ready to go.”

“Thanks, Ma. I’ll talk to you later.” Deborah ended the call and sat there for a moment. Her body was weak. Her sadness and depression were heavy. It would take a minute for her to muster up the strength to peel herself off the bed. Of course, while she sat there, her mind turned to thoughts of her and Lynox’s fight. She put her head down and shook it. She couldn’t believe things had gotten physical. Well, she had gotten physical, anyway.

She’d wanted to tell Lynox that she was sorry. But apologizing equated to admitting to her ugly acts. That was too hard. Often people didn’t apologize for their wrongdoings, because they felt they hadn’t done anything wrong. Confirming that wrongdoing was too painful. Denial was far more comfortable. And no matter how hard Deborah tried, she couldn’t gather up enough courage to allow the words “I’m sorry” to escape her mouth. As a matter of fact, not a single word had been spoken between the two since they had continued their car ride home last night. Deborah was surprised that Lynox had not opted to sleep on the couch or in the guest room. If she had to bet, she’d put five on the fact that he slept with one eye open last night. He’d called her crazy, and she’d given him good reason to. Yet she’d snapped when the word came from his mouth and drifted into her ears.

Crazy.

She’d once heard that crazy people absolutely detested being called crazy, that officially being labeled that made them go, well, crazy. That was pretty much what had happened in Deborah’s case. She’d been questioning for some time whether she was flat-out crazy, whether any doctor or pill in the world could help her. So to hear Lynox say the word had really hit a nerve. She might have physically slapped Lynox with her hand, but he’d mentally slapped her with that word. And to bring up his past relationship with a chick who he thought had put the c in crazy had really got Deborah’s panties in a bunch. Lynox hadn’t had to say a name. Deborah was certain that when he mentioned getting rid of a crazy woman from his past, he’d been referring to Helen.

Lynox being under the same roof as Helen during church had never been a concern of Deborah’s. But Lynox bringing Helen up last night had triggered something in Deborah’s mind. Why did he have to remind her that Helen had been with him first? Now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t get the thought of those two being together out of her mind. Why had Lynox alluded to Helen? Had he been thinking of her as of late?

Helen volunteered in children’s church sometimes. Deborah typically signed the boys in and out of children’s church. On some occasions, when Lynox did attend church, Deborah would let him get the boys after service, while she spent a little extra time fellowshipping in the sanctuary. Had anything occurred between the two ex-lovers during those times?

Deborah and Helen had apologized to one another and had forgiven each other for all the ugly things that had transpired between the two of them. But had Helen been sincere, or had she been playing Deborah all along? Had she made Deborah think that they were cool, that she wasn’t a threat, so that she could pull a sneaky move and try to steal Deborah’s man?

All these questions circling in Deborah’s mind wouldn’t let her get back in that bed and rest even if she wanted to. She and Lynox were on the outs right now, and that made it all the easier for Helen to slink in. Huh! Not under Deborah’s watch.

Deborah looked over at her cell phone. She picked it up and placed a call. “Mom,” she said when her mother answered the phone. “Change of plans. Get the boys ready. We’re going to church, after all.”

***

“Sister Chase, it’s good to see you in the house of the Lord this beautiful Sunday morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah,” was absolutely what Deborah had on her heart to say to the cheerful usher who stood outside the closed sanctuary doors and greeted her. But instead, she got her flesh under control, smiled, and said, “Good morning.” She went to open one of the doors, but the usher continued to block it.

“Elder Ross has already started prayer. You know pastor doesn’t like any movement or walking around during prayer or when a prophesy is being given.”

I know church rules. I been in church long enough to know that, Deborah thought, fussing in her head. Who do you think you are, giving me the rundown, when I have been a member of this church and have known Pastor for quite some time, while you was still sliding down poles over at the Dollhouse Strip Club? Ooh, if only Deborah could say with her mouth what she was thinking in her head. Her spirit woman was already being convicted for just thinking it. She could only imagine the type of conviction that would fall on her if she actually said the words out loud. So she opted to say nothing. Just nod and smile, Deborah. Nod and smile.

Deborah wished she had gone with her first instinct and had not even taken the baby to the nursery and Tyson to children’s church. But she had wanted to lay eyes on Helen and perhaps do a little inquiring, and of course, she’d needed the boys in tow to do that. She would have looked ridiculous if she’d gone to children’s church without any children.

She 100 percent intended only to inquire this time. No laying on of hands, which was how things had turned out the last time she’d called herself going to have a little chat with Helen. As luck would have it, this Sunday Helen wasn’t even volunteering in children’s church. It wasn’t her week, which was what Deborah had been told when she dropped Tyson off. Deborah couldn’t get out of there quick enough after getting Tyson all signed in. With each click of her heels down the hall to the church vestibule and then to the sanctuary doors, Deborah had envisioned Helen spotting Lynox alone in the sanctuary, sans wife, and then making her move on him for old times’ sakes. Ordinarily, Lynox would be strong, able to fight off the clutches of Satan, but this morning he was vulnerable and weak. Deborah didn’t know if he could withstand the force of Helen’s sex appeal.

As she impatiently waited outside the sanctuary doors, Deborah could feel her heartbeat picking up. Her blood chilled throughout her body. These were all signs she’d experienced prior to her panic attacks. She was only becoming more and more anxious as Elder Ross continued his prayer.

Somebody needed to speak to Pastor Margie about when Elder Ross was called upon to pray. Deborah wasn’t wearing a watch, and she hadn’t checked the time on her cell phone, but she knew good and well that she had been standing outside the sanctuary, waiting for Elder Ross to finish praying, for at least ten minutes. His prayer had started off slow and smooth. He’d done the normal prayer over the church, the pastor, the leaders, the ministry, and so on. Then he had got all loud and boisterous and had started the “Somebody in here needs prayer for this, and somebody in here needs prayer for that” stuff. Then he had got to speaking in tongues.

“It don’t take all that,” Deborah said under her breath as she waited impatiently.

Every couple of minutes the usher would crack open the door and peek inside. She’d then turn and smile at Deborah, with a “Not quite yet” look on her face. If that usher knew what was good for her, the next time she cracked open that door, she’d let Deborah in. The usher might have about fifty pounds on Deborah, but she was going through her.

Finally, there was clapping and shouts of “Amen,” as if Elder Ross had closed out the prayer. The usher checked to make sure they were sealing Elder Ross’s prayer in a praise clap, then opened the door wide to let Deborah in. By then a couple more latecomers had shown up, and they all entered the sanctuary.

Inside there were ushers waiting to direct them to seats, as well as to hand them the church announcements. Minister Motley was making her way to the pulpit in order to read scripture.

Deborah held her hand up when one of the ushers attempted to give a copy of the announcements to her. “That’s okay. I’m sure my husband has one,” she said. “By the way, do you, by any chance, know where Lynox is seated?” Deborah could tell by the usher’s expression that she didn’t have a clue. “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll find him.”

The rows of seats appeared to be filled to capacity as Deborah made her way down the center aisle. She looked up and down, from left to right, hoping to spot Lynox. She was his wife. She needed to be there in the sanctuary with him, by his side, blessing the Lord for even giving her someone who could put up with her mess. If only she had womaned up and apologized to him last night, she probably wouldn’t even be going through this right now. Why did she always have to be right instead of righteous? Here she’d pushed the man so far away that he felt it would take Jesus Himself to talk him into allowing her back into his good graces. If that was the case, Deborah would be right there when the conversation took place.

“Good morning, Sis,” someone greeted as Deborah walked by.

“Morning,” Deborah threw over her shoulder, clueless about whom she was even giving that halfhearted greeting to. She did that a couple more times before she was about five rows from the pulpit. Still there was no sign of Lynox at all. “Dang,” Deborah said as she bit down on her lip.

Some members were seated, while others were still standing. The scripture had been read, but praise and worship was next, so some had decided that they might as well remain standing. Between the praise team—especially if Sister Paige was singing a solo—and the musicians, they wouldn’t have been able to stay in their seats, anyway. Of course, all this up and down was making it hard for Deborah to get a clear view down each row.

Deborah was at the third pew when she realized that she might as well take a seat before she ended up at the altar. “Pardon me,” she said as she scooted down to a vacant seat, still looking around for Lynox.

“Come on, everybody. Put your hands together, and let’s bless the Lord,” the praise and worship leader said as the musicians played behind him.

Deborah began clapping only because she’d been instructed to, and not because she was really focused on praising the Lord. Praise songs weren’t designed to be like secular music. With praise music, more than just the beat was supposed to pull the listener in. It was about the words that were being ministered. When it came to praise music, one shouted out, “That’s my song,” because the words rang true to one’s spirit, and not because one could bounce to it, although there was nothing wrong with getting a little Holy Ghost bounce on, especially if it was a good old-fashioned Kirk Franklin or Tye Tribbett song.

But not one word being sung was registering with Deborah. She was distracted by not knowing where Lynox was. The feeling of distraction in church, unfortunately, wasn’t new to Deborah. It was just that usually she was better at concealing how her mind was drifting off, how she was wondering about other things, such as what she was going to prepare for dinner after church, which manuscript she would start editing next, whether or not she was going to do the laundry today or tomorrow, and whether there was a PTO meeting that week or not. Such mental distractions somehow so easily tore her from what was going on in the Lord’s house. Her mind was so hard to keep under control sometimes, and as last night had proven, so was her mouth . . . and now her hands.

“He deserves a real hand praise, not a mechanical one.”

Deborah looked to see if, by any chance, the praise and worship leader was looking dead at her when he said those words. If he was talking to her, it was his right to do so. That flimsy and robotic hand praise she was giving the Lord while she was scanning the sanctuary was shameful. She began to clap her hands harder. In case the praise and worship leader had been addressing her, she didn’t want his throwing of shade to be in vain.

Within a minute or so, Deborah was clapping her hands and singing the words along with praise and worship. Her clap slowed and her vocals were behind a count when she finally spotted someone she had been looking for. Helen. She was sitting in the second seat from the end of the row that was two rows behind Deborah. She was on her feet, clapping and singing along as if her life depended on it, unlike Deborah, who was just moving her lips, hoping no one noticed she wasn’t singing the right words.

Standing next to Helen was her teenage son. He was clapping and swaying, leaving the singing to his mother. But he genuinely looked to be giving God the glory. Deborah prayed that her boys would someday worship God in spirit and in truth. Even if sometimes she did feel as if she was going to church only out of routine, she at least hoped that raising her boys in the way that they should go would be beneficial.

With the thought that she had to be an example for her own children, Deborah decided to turn back around and make a genuine effort at giving God some praise from her heart. As Deborah went to turn her head and face forward, she saw him, Lynox. She might as well have jumped into a pit of fire, because that was how hot she was. There he was, sitting down. He was clapping his hands, but he was not standing like almost everyone else. That was not what had Deborah on fire, though. It was who he was sitting by. Helen!