Chapter 16
J. Amanda
J. Amanda’s cell phone rang at 2:23 A.M., and she jolted awake. With half-opened eyes, she stretched her hand to the nightstand and picked up her phone. Though her vision was blurry, she could see Hunky’s number on the screen.
David lifted his hand from around her waist and turned on his side. “The church is calling, babe,” he muttered and almost immediately drifted back to sleep.
J. Amanda eased out of the bed and rushed into the bathroom. It had been weeks since she talked to Hunky at this hour, and she’d forgotten to turn off the ringer before bed. But now that he had called, she had to answer, because David thought it was a church emergency.
J. Amanda’s heart beat fast as she hit the call button. “Hey, Hunky. What’s up?”
“Can you talk?”
“Of course I can’t talk,” she wanted to tell him. Instead, she simply said, “No. Is something wrong, or can I call you on my way to work?”
“I haven’t heard from you, love. I miss you,” Hunky whined.
J. Amanda blamed herself for cutting him off cold turkey and realized she needed to have a heart-to-heart with him. It was the right thing to do. Hunky meant more to her than her actions showed. “I’ve been really busy, but I should’ve called. I’m sorry about that, but can we catch up tomorrow?”
Hunky perked up. “That would be great! Can you make it to the Doubletree tomorrow? You choose the time. I have the day off.”
Going to the Doubletree sounded too tempting, so J. Amanda proposed an alternate plan. “I’m supposed to meet with our travel agent tomorrow. Can we meet at the Panera on Route 30 for lunch?”
“Are you going on vacation?” he asked.
“David and I want to take the kids to Disney.”
Flustered, Hunky replied, “You and David?”
“Yes, Hunky. He is their father. It’s not unusual for us to vacation together,” she explained, then caught herself. Why was she explaining herself? “It’s late, Hunky. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“I really need to see you, Jay,” Hunky pleaded. “Please try to come to the hotel. I just want to talk. Nothing else. I promise.”
To get him off the phone, J. Amanda agreed. “I can make it after three,” she replied and said good night.
J. Amanda tiptoed back into the bedroom and slid under the covers. She made sure the ringer on her cell phone was off, then tried to get comfortable. David lifted his head to check the time and then cuddled next to his wife.
“Somebody needed prayer?” he asked.
When J. Amanda wanted David to question her actions, he didn’t. She closed her eyes and uttered, “Yes.”
“What’s all this?” J. Amanda asked when she entered the hotel.
The room Hunky had reserved this time was even fancier than the last. It had a lounging area, a kitchenette, and a separate work space. He had apparently cooked an early dinner. The table was set for two and was covered in rose petals.
“I want you to know how much I miss you,” he said and handed her a single rose.
“Hunky, I couldn’t keep the bouquet of roses you gave me last time,” J. Amanda said. “I can’t accept this one, either. I think we need to talk, sweetie.”
“Let me go first,” he begged and escorted J. Amanda to the couch. “I know I’ve been acting a little strange lately, but that’s the effect you have on me. Being with you that night made me remember just how much I love you.”
J. Amanda sat the rose on the coffee table. “I love you too, Hunky. But let’s not forget that we’re both married.”
“I know this sounds bad, but I’d leave her if it meant we’d spend the rest of our lives together.”
“Hunky . . . I’m not gonna leave David. We’re having problems, but I can’t just transport my kids out of one home and into another. We probably should’ve talked more before we were intimate,” J. Amanda said. “But we have such a strong chemistry that we let our emotions cloud our reality.”
Hunky put her hand in his. “Our love is all that matters, Jay. If you love me, I can wait this time for as long as you want. Everything will fall into place if you want me.”
J. Amanda eased her hand from under his. “Of course I love you, but I think we need to start over. We moved way too fast, and I take the blame for my part in what’s happened,” J. Amanda stated. “We’ve always been friends, and that’s what I’d like us to focus on.”
“You and I both know we’re more than friends,” Hunky said and moved in for a kiss.
J. Amanda jumped up and moved away from the couch. “God wouldn’t want me to handle things this way, Hunky. I didn’t listen to Him before, and look at what that’s done. Please . . . just try to understand what I’m saying.”
“Why can’t you see that God wants us to be together?” Hunky was reaching for ways to get his point across. “Out of all the people in the world to have as a neighbor, He put me in a house next to Jasmine. Can’t you see that this is fate?”
“If God wanted us to be together, Hunky, He’d make a way without confusion,” explained J. Amanda. “We’re both married now. That’s not the way God would join us together. You don’t have to believe it, but I do. And I’m sorry, but friendship is all I have to offer right now.”
“Friendship wouldn’t work. At some point, I’d want to kiss you, and not the kind of kiss I give my daughter.” As Hunky talked, someone knocked on the door, and he went over to the window. He pulled the curtain back and grunted.
“I know you’re in there,” a woman said. “And I know she’s with you.”
J. Amanda rolled her eyes. Though she knew who it was, she asked, anyway. “Is that your wife?”
Hunky snatched the door open. “”What are you doing here, Patrice?”
If there was a back door, J. Amanda would’ve snuck out of the room. “Why don’t I leave you two alone to talk?” she said and started walking, but Patrice blocked her path.
“No, Reverend King. Stay a while,” she said and walked by Hunky. “Stay and tell me why you’re here with my husband. Or . . . is that a silly question to ask?”
J. Amanda fell on the couch and buried her head in her hands. What have I done?
“Don’t pray now, preacher woman,” Patrice remarked.
“Let’s not start a scene here, Patrice,” Hunky urged. “This isn’t what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not slow, honey. I’ve been onto you and preacher girl for a month,” Patrice confessed. “I don’t get it,” she said to J. Amanda. “This man is my husband. Why would you want to destroy my family?”
Patrice moved closer to J. Amanda, and she didn’t know whether to run out the door or prepare to fight. Hunky’s wife wasn’t a large woman. In fact, her upper body made her appear heavier than she actually was. Still, she was a solid woman, and J. Amanda feared her anger would give her the strength to knock her out cold in one shot.
J. Amanda looked Patrice in the eyes and connected with her pain. She deserved whatever words Patrice spewed her way. “I should really leave,” she said and stood up.
Hunky rushed to block the door. “J. Amanda is my friend, Patrice. I can’t let her leave until we all have an understanding.”
“Your friend?” Patrice asked, slightly amused by his statement. “You have intimate relations with all your friends? Do you sneak to hotels, cook dinner, and buy roses for all your friends? Do you sneak off to grocery stores and hide in the basement to talk to your friends?”
Filled with guilt, J. Amanda stared at the floor. This was more than she could handle. “I’m sorry, Patrice.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, because you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t be here with my husband.”
J. Amanda touched the handle on the door, and as she lifted it, Patrice said, “If you’re really sorry, you’ll leave him alone.”
J. Amanda eyed Hunky as she opened the door. “This is too much confusion,” she said before leaving.
As J. Amanda drove back to Faith Tabernacle, she replayed the saddened look in Patrice’s eyes. She couldn’t help imagining that David would wear that same look if he found out about Hunky too. This was all her fault. How could she be so weak? She knew better than this!
And . . . if she’d paid attention, she would’ve realized that there was a pattern to Hunky’s return visits. Every time they reconnected, there was an unfortunate outcome. This time it was adultery. The last time it was an abortion.
A stout and friendly-faced nurse escorted J. Amanda into a slightly chilled room. At the sight of the equipment around the room, J. Amanda halted her steps. Four chairs, separated by a curtain for privacy, were positioned in each corner. Though she was the only patient in the room, she wondered how many other women had stood where her feet were planted.
The nurse held J. Amanda’s shaking hand and tried to ease her fears. “I’m gonna be with you the entire time. Try to relax.”
J. Amanda followed her to the chair where her procedure would be performed and sat down. The nurse helped her adjust herself in the leather chair.
“You won’t be in here more than five minutes,” she told J. Amanda as she lifted her feet into the stirrups.
If that was supposed to erase the guilt she felt, the nurse would have to come up with a different line. Only five minutes to take away a life, J. Amanda thought. A life that is growing inside of me because I used poor judgment. Somehow what she was doing didn’t seem fair to the embryo inside her.
A middle-aged doctor entered the room and walked straight to the machine near J. Amanda’s feet. Without looking at her, he said hello as he counted the objects on a metal tray beside her chair. “Just relax,” he said coldly as he touched the inside of her knees.
J. Amanda’s legs shook uncontrollably, and the nurse rubbed her hand. “You’ll be fine, honey. But you have to open your legs wide.”
J. Amanda knew she had to be strong, so she opened her legs as wide as they could go and held her breath.
The doctor turned on a vacuum-like machine, and she closed her legs clenching them, on impulse. “I can’t get in there if you don’t open your legs,” the doctor stated, causing her legs to shake more.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” the nurse said and lightly pushed down on J. Amanda’s left leg. “It’ll be over before you feel a thing.”
J. Amanda closed her eyes and tried to relax as she lowered both of her legs. What if this is my only chance to become a mother? she thought as the doctor widened her legs. Then, before J. Amanda could get used to his touch, he inserted a cold metal speculum inside her. She squeezed the nurse’s hand tight as it slid into her. With her free hand she held her stomach and repeated, “God, forgive me,” over and over.
“You’re doing great,” the nurse said. “Squeeze as hard as you need to, baby doll. I can take it.”
J. Amanda cracked a tiny smile and said, “Thank you.”
Once the speculum was in place, the doctor pulled on a long tube attached to the loud machine, and as he approached her, she flinched. She could feel the suction before the tube touched her.
“Wait a minute!” she cried. “I need another minute . . . please.”
Visiting that abortion clinic was one of J. Amanda’s worst experiences. As a young adult, it’s difficult to understand why God designed intimate relations for marriage. The effects were often damaging. For years, every time she heard a vacuum or saw a long tube, she shuddered.
When Tiffany was born, J. Amanda vowed to teach her early on the importance of celibacy before marriage. Her only education about sex came from an old health book in high school and conversations she overheard between her older sisters. J. Amanda was going to provide a better sex education for her daughter so that she’d be equipped to fight against her flesh. And so that she’d never have to visit an abortion clinic or be a willing participant in an affair.