Chapter Seven
Two weeks had passed since the stunt Mike pulled at the church. February had barely touched down and Keithe still hadn’t talked to his best friend, not even once. Along with that, he had only spoken godly business with Kenya. Things still weren’t sitting well with him and he just couldn’t shake his attitude.
Keithe was furious and decided to take it out on the equipment he had set up in his home gym. His three-bedroom condo had enough room for him to have sleeping quarters, a home office, and a workout room. He didn’t bother with having a guest bedroom, being that when his parents did visit, his mother insisted on going to the impeccable upscale hotels in town. She liked being pampered and knew a bachelor’s pad just couldn’t accommodate those needs.
With his iPod Touch connected to the sweat band around his bicep, Keithe turned the volume high while doing his first set of squats. Listening to the words sailing through Brian Courtney Wilson’s voice, Keithe used the song for the strength he needed in the physical and the spiritual. “I am a Christian, do you know what that means? It means I’m far from perfect but simply redeemed... .”
Keithe never claimed to be perfect himself but just wanted a better life for Mike. He couldn’t help that he cared about his friend the way he had. And Kenya, he hadn’t even gotten a chance to show her just how much he could care for her. Thanks to Mike, that too was cut short.
He hadn’t meant to be so drastic when it came to his blowup with Mike. But because Mike knew that Keithe had feelings for Kenya, it made the getting angry easier. Now it was him left with confused emotions ... having to deal with it on his own.
After his full set of squats, Keithe moved on to the inclined workout bench he used for the sit-up and crunches portion of his exercise regimen. He was determined to become one again with the six-pack he had let go after his divorce.
Having always been in shape and priding himself on taking care of his inner man as well as his physical man, Keithe didn’t think he would be affected emotionally after his divorce, but soon found out different. After his move to Dallas, and during his two-week vacation before starting his position as a senior lawyer at Sims and Sims, a prestigious downtown law firm, Keithe fell into a slump. There were days he couldn’t get out of bed; or, rather, wouldn’t. His time was spent stuck on reprimanding himself for being in an unyoked marriage all those years. The rest of the time was spent missing Michelle.
On one hand, he felt he gave up too soon. Honestly, he had prayed for years, a decade or more, for Michelle to seek and accept a relationship with God. He felt it was his godly duty to do so. Then she had. Yet, he still hadn’t been settled. Too much had happened.
“This sucks,” he blurted out of the blue. Wiping down the black plastic leather–mixed exercise bench, Keithe was ready to cool down. Giving himself a good stretch, he headed for the treadmill. Setting a steady pace, Keithe walked in stride.
Keithe always agreed with God, which was why he hadn’t moved in haste. He knew he had to pray about his departure from his marriage before he had mentioned his thoughts aloud or even to Michelle. It was only when he felt a peace about his moving on that he opened up to his wife. When it was over, said and done, and he still felt the pull after his fasting and praying, Keithe moved forward.
After a fifteen-minute cool down routine on the well-worn treadmill, a vibrating notion on his hip grabbed his attention. Taking the white earplugs from his ears, Keithe hesitated in taking the call. “Of course,” he muttered to himself.
It was always weird to him when he thought about her and then received a call soon after. It was as if God was telling him he had made a mistake leaving Michelle. Either that or they had been married so long their minds had meshed.
“Yes.” Keithe answered his cell phone while walking at a very slow pace. He automatically grabbed an attitude and had no idea why.
“Hey, Keithe.” Michelle spoke cordially over the telephone, regardless of the very dry and rude greeting she had just received.
Putting the finishing touches on her Sunday dinner, Michelle wanted to put in a quick call to Keithe before she finished preparing her Pampered Chef recipe–in-spired meal.
With a quick switch of the phone to her left ear in order to get a better view of her creamed corn heating up on the stove top, Michelle questioned, “Are you busy, Mr. Morgan?”
Deciding not to play the Mr. and Mrs. Morgan game with her, Keithe only responded with, “No.” Pushing the quick stop button on his treadmill, Keithe walked off the stationary track and left the room, headed toward the kitchen.
“What? No Sunday dinner for you and that special someone?” Michelle went off the subject, still wanting Keithe to confirm if he was indeed dating. When she only heard Keithe gulping down a beverage, she continued. “I just wanted to let you know that Stoney will be flying in to Dallas tomorrow morning. I wanted to give you her flight information for—”
“Wait a minute,” Keithe said as he came up for air. Putting the cap on his Gatorade, Keithe walked toward his bedroom in search of his T-shirt once the drink had produced a cool chill throughout his body. “Why isn’t she driving in? I have work, Michelle,” Keithe responded, not liking the last-minute plans he had become a part of. Even though he was one of the top lawyers at the firm and could dismiss himself at a moment’s notice, Keithe loved what he did and always enjoyed being at work. Plus he had only been there two years and didn’t want to be a bad example to the younger attorneys behind him. He didn’t want to break his dependable title. “Why are you just now calling me?” Keithe needed to know.
Hearing her doorbell sound in the background, Michelle wished she could go deeper into the need for him to pick up Stoney from the airport. She was sure it was just his ego that needed to be soothed. Even more she wished she now had the nerve to share her bright idea of uprooting herself from Houston and making her temporary home in Dallas. Home of NBA champions the Dallas Mavericks.
“Look, Keithe.” Michelle wiped her manicured hands on her stylish apron. “Stoney just called me this morning and said her car did not start and she had it towed to the dealer.” She walked out of the kitchen. “Of course she tried to call her father to pick her up tomorrow, but he won’t be in until the evening himself.” Michelle knew she was reaching, but wanting to throw a little salt in Keithe’s game. “Now if you can’t do it ...” A silent attitude attached itself to Michelle’s reasoning. Winding her way through the mini-mansion, with less than twenty feet from the door, Michelle snatched her apron off with vengeance. Keithe’s harshness was all of a sudden getting under her skin.
“I got it.” Keithe had calmed down. Picking up his shirt off the bed, Keithe clicked his BlackBerry on speaker and threw the phone on his sheeted mattress. “No problem. Just give me the flight information.”
“Fantastic.” Michelle claimed the victory. “I’ll forward the itinerary over to you later this evening,” she said. “Someone is at my door, so I will have to call you back to make sure you have received it. And if you can, dear, remind me to share some news with you as well. I have to run now. Smooches.” She air kissed through the phone and disconnected the call.
Taking a seat on his bed, Keithe didn’t bother to stop himself from lying flat. His bed had seemed to be his companion of late. Making no defined friendships as of yet, Keithe only wished there was someone he could call to vent to.
He needed to rant. He needed to cry. Keithe needed someone to tell him that things wouldn’t always be this way. Without hesitation, Keithe rolled over and picked up his cell phone and pushed the number two button.
“Something told me it was you on the other end of the phone.” Ladybug sat on her back porch with her iced tea in her right hand. Rocking the glass in a circular motion, the seventy-something mother of one enjoyed her days of not doing much. Sitting pretty, watching her husband drive the riding lawnmower over their manicured lawn, retirement had never been better.
“Oh yeah.” Keithe automatically added a smile to his face. “Maybe that’s because of the caller ID screen on your phone. Technology, Mom.”
With the sound of the ice clinking ceasing, Ladybug said, “Oh, boy, hush,” and laughed a deep belly laugh. “What you doing calling your mother in the midst of this beautiful Sunday afternoon, Deacon Morgan?” Ladybug Morgan, as everyone called her, asked, very proud of her son and his love for the Lord.
“In between Sunday services, Ma. I’m heading back in a little while. Just wanted to call and hear my beautiful mother’s voice. How are you, Mommy?” He exaggerated his voice to sound like a young man again.
“You are a mess, son. Well. And how are you doing, really?” She set her drink on her glass outdoor table. Getting up from her seat, Ladybug opted to go inside the house to ward off the noise the lawn equipment made. “You sound kind of, I don’t know, under the weather is it?” She took the first seat she walked up on, which was her husband’s recliner. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. I’m not sick ... just sick of people. Me and Mike got into it. Yes, a woman is involved. And then Michelle—”
“Uh-uh. You know I don’t want to hear nothing about Michelle. Not gonna let you do it, Keithe.” Ladybug had just started liking Michelle after her son had divorced her. “We are cordial and have even had dinner a few times. I don’t want to be in the midst of it, son,” the short, gray-haired, petite woman said as she rose from her seat.
“Ma, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that ... she just called and dropped a bomb on me that I need to pick Stoney up from the airport. And Mike, he’s back to his old tricks. Pushing up on the young lady I have feelings for, knowing good and well he’s not stuttin’ nobody.”
“Um. That poor boy. He just needs to let go and let God,” Ladybug said wholeheartedly.
“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him, but he thinks I’m judging him. I keep telling him that he just needs to put his mind over matter and come up off this trip ... but not with my woman,” Keithe said.
“Your woman, huh? Keithe, hush.” Ladybug pulled the lever on the side of the big brown leather chair and relaxed. “And how do you know he’s not letting go and letting God the way he knows how to? Mike’s getting over being gay you may think is an easy thing to do. That’s not always the case, Keithe. People have battles, honey. You don’t condemn them, you pray for them.” Ladybug was sincere. “You know, how you prayed for that floundering wife of yours. And voilà... .” Ladybug rubbed it in.
“Ohhhh, so now you talking about your friend? Um, huh,” Keithe joked.
“No. I’m just telling the truth. But seriously, I love Mike as if he were my own son. I do not like the sin, but I love him. We each have our own crosses to carry ... our own deadly sins. I didn’t like it when you used to do all that rump shaking stuff with all those little fast-tail girls when you were in college. God and everybody knows you were sinning up a storm. And then had the nerve to lie to me over and over again about what you were not doing. As if I were born just yesterday ...” Ladybug was nonstop.
“Okay, okay, Ma. Geez. That was over twenty-something years ago.” He finally kicked his running shoes off. Keithe knew it was all the truth. It wasn’t until his relationship grew with God and he read the Word for himself, without compromise, that he knew better. “I understand.”
Keithe thought for a moment how at one time it had been extremely hard for him to stay away from the opposite sex. He equated himself to Lance, Morris Chestnut’s young character in the movie The Best Man. It was like an addiction to him. No, it was as if it were second nature to him. One that had him sent to the dean’s office, had his parents called in, and had counseling sessions set up for him. It was real. It wasn’t that he had forgotten, but he just didn’t see how Mike could even fathom doing the same with men. But he really did realize now that nothing had to make sense.
“I’m just saying, Keithe. You got to talk with Mike through love. It’s not easy to understand why people do the things they do, or even why we do the things we do. But we can only hope that God can help us before we get too far gone. And again ...” Ladybug knew she was pushing it.
“Let me guess ... like my wife?”
“Exactly.” Ladybug giggled.
Switching his phone to the other hand, Keithe knew he was on a limited time frame before night service. “I still love you though, Ladybug.” Keithe admired his mother for being real and staying real.
“Of course you do. I made you. I love you, son.”
“And I love you too. Tell dad I said what’s up frat.” Keithe loved the double bond he and his father had.
“And?” Ladybug waited.
“But of course. And tell my dad I love him. See ya, Mom.”