10
The Woman I Am
Hope finished checking her e-mails and, instead of balancing the household checkbook as she’d planned, then looked up the foundation scripture to the upcoming conference. It was an interesting one, taken from the third chapter of Exodus when God commanded Moses to go before Pharaoh and demand that the children of Israel be let go. When Moses had asked God what his name was, and who should he say had sent him, God answered, “I Am that I Am.” He told Moses to say that I Am had sent him. Vivian had told Hope to study the Hebrew word for this passage. She’d been the one to suggest that Hope purchase a Hebrew-Greek Bible. It had been the best study guide Hope could have imagined, had helped her deepen her understanding of the scriptures and in doing so, to strengthen her relationship with God.
“Hayah.” Hope practiced the Hebrew word on her tongue as she read its literal meaning: to breathe. Immediately she began to get excited. God was her very breath? She continued reading aloud, literally feeling the Spirit as she did so. “This verb means to exist, to become, to come to pass, to happen, to be finished.” She stopped, pondering that definition. It came to her that what God had spoken was already done, that the end was known from the beginning. She also felt that God was saying that whatever Moses needed God was, and by default, since humans were made in the image and likeness of God, that whatever people desired was inherently already inside them. The revelation sat Hope back in her chair. Could that be true? Could the power to realize all of her desires have existed inside her all along? If so, why had it taken so long for it to happen, for her to meet Cy and have children? And what about all of the single women out there, good women who wanted marriage and motherhood, yet found it so difficult to find the right man? As more questions than answers came to her, she kept reading. “The key meaning to Jehovah/Yahweh is found in this word. I Am that I Am means I Am He who exists: timeless, ever-present.” Fingers drummed against the mahogany table as she thought on these words, asking God what she should say at the conference, how she could use these words and her life to encourage someone who was in the shoes she’d occupied for a long period of her life. “Help me, Jesus,” she murmured, rising from the table and stretching long and hard. She looked at her clock, knowing that the kids would be coming back soon. It was also workout day, one of three times a week that Yvette came through to torture her into retaining the lean, tight body that Cy loved.
Just enough time left to try and catch my girls. Reaching for her phone, she walked from the kitchen area toward the great room, to the covered patio beyond it. It was a favorite hangout place for Hope, a smartly appointed area anchored by an outdoor kitchen on one side and an infinity pool on the other. Beyond it was the expertly maintained garden from which Hope filled the house with flowers: hydrangeas, orchids, lilies. Also growing were large bird-of-paradise plants that she admired but refused to cut. Beyond the garden was what drove up the property’s value—an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean. She and Cy had spent many amorous evenings on this patio. Her cootchie tingled just thinking about them, so she forced away these thoughts as Stacy picked up on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Hope.”
“Hey, girl. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. What’s up?”
“Uh-uh. That’s not how we do things. I’m your girl, Stace. Talk to me.”
It was true. Hope and Stacy had become fast friends after Hope relocated to Los Angeles from Kansas City. Stacy admired her lifestyle, especially the fact that she’d snagged KCCC’s most eligible bachelor, right out of Millicent Kirtz’s—then Millicent Sims—crosshairs. Hope later found out it hadn’t been quite that way, that while Cy had dated Millicent a couple times they’d never been intimate. At any rate, Hope truly appreciated Stacy’s friendship, the only woman she conversed with other than her cousin, Frieda. Hope had been Stacy’s confidante regarding her obsession, Darius Crenshaw. She was the first to know that Stacy was pregnant with his child, the first to whom Stacy finally admitted the truth that he was gay, and the one who helped her pick up the pieces when Darius, who’d finally married Stacy following the birth of their son, then had their marriage annulled to be with his true love, Bo Jenkins. On the other hand, Stacy had been a much-needed sympathetic ear during Hope’s attempts to have children, had been her cheerleader when Hope began to lose the essence of her name. She’d helped pull Hope back from the brink when she’d become obsessed with the fact that Millicent had had a child before she did, and then was convinced that Millicent was after Cy. Her paranoia had resulted in her racing to a hotel where Cy was meeting with Jack Kirtz and a contractor about the surprise dream home where she now sat. Unfortunately for Millicent, when her husband knew he’d be delayed for the meeting, she offered to bring the plans and get things started. Hope found Cy and Millicent alone in the room and had held a San Diego tea party, tossing a pitcher of the cool drink in Millicent’s face. Stacy and Hope had been through their share of drama and if there was some more brewing, they’d face it together.
“What’s going on, Stacy?” Hope prompted her friend to open up about what was bothering her. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I’m worried about Tony.”
“Still no takers?”
“No, and that’s the problem. No team has shown interest in picking him up for the upcoming season. Tony is not dealing well with the fact that his career may be over.”
“That’s got to be rough.”
“It is. I’ve talked to some of the other wives whose husbands have retired. Things can get tough. Some men get depressed and withdrawn, others have divorced their wives, left their families.”
Hope swallowed her nervousness, forced herself to sound calm. “Are you worried that Tony will do that? Leave you and DJ?” She’d liked Tony Johnson from the moment she met him, and in hopes of helping Stacy move on from Darius, had encouraged her to date the strapping football star. Tony was a big, solid guy, over two hundred pounds of muscle and bone.
“If you’d asked me that six months ago, I would have said no way. But he’s changing, Hope, becoming more distant and moody, just like what some of the wives said would happen. It’s like nothing I say is the right thing. If I share my optimism that he’ll get picked up, he tells me I don’t know anything about the business of football. Which is right, I don’t. If I tell him that he has a great future postplaying, remind him how various stations have shown interest in him doing game analysis or even hosting his own show, he gets angry and quiet. Tony likes to live large, so I know he’s also concerned about our finances. I don’t mind it, but I don’t think my husband will want to change our lifestyle, a necessity once the big checks stop coming in. I want him to talk to Pastor Derrick, but I’m afraid it will make Tony too angry if it’s suggested he get counseling, that we get counseling. But I hate to see him in pain, Hope. I hate to see the man I married becoming someone else.”
“I’m so sorry, Stacy. Tony is a good guy. I can’t help but think that y’all will get through this challenging time.” Hope was quiet, her mind racing with possible ways to help her dear friend. “Do you think it would be too obvious if Cy called him? If I talk to him, I think he’d be open to helping Tony break into real estate. He’s always looking for partners he can trust.”
“Thank you, Hope. I don’t think Tony is open right now, but that’s a possibility to keep in mind.”
“Well, maybe Cy can put it on his mind.” Hope told Stacy about her convo with Vivian, the upcoming Sanctity of Sisterhood minisummit and her open invitation to their Fourth of July bash.
“Oh my God, girl, that would be perfect! It’s just what Tony needs to get his mind off the game, and what is or isn’t happening. Please thank Vivian for me and let her know that if at all possible, Tony and I will be there.”
“I can send you guys plane tickets if it’ll help; tell Tony that it’s an early anniversary present.”
“Let me talk to him. That man is so proud. If he smells anything close to charity, he’ll not only clam up, but he’ll know we’ve talked. So don’t say or do anything unless I say so.”
“Okay. I’m praying for you, sistah.”
“Thanks, Hope. I need it.”
“I’ve got you. If you and Tony come up the weekend before the fourth, we can hang out at Frieda’s and do some serious shopping.” Belatedly, Hope realized that suggesting they spend money might not be the best idea. “My treat.”
“Tony’s home, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, Stacy, keep me posted. You know I’ll worry about you. Take good care.”