'Til I Want No More

by Robin W. Pearson

  Maxine slid her hand out of her mother’s clasp. “What do you mean, what do I know? I’ve known him since I was fifteen. You know his parents, Annie and Geoff.”

  Vivienne waved away her daughter’s words like flies hovering over a picnic blanket. “But what do you really know? Is Alzheimer’s disease genetic? And what about high blood pressure, cancer, stroke, or sickle cell disease—does any of that run in his family? We should know his blood type, family medical history, current medical history. Everything. I imagine you don’t.”

  Maxine’s lips were glued shut.

  “I thought so. But those are things the doctors need to know. That Celeste should know in an emergency.” She cast a bleak look at John. She faced her daughter once more. “We need to help them help Celeste, which means they need to know more than just our side of the medical tree—Celeste has other grandparents, other family. What if the answers are buried somewhere in his DNA? We’ve had our heads stuck deep in the sand, thinkin’ this doesn’t involve JD or that all you have to worry about is your relationship with her. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, my dear. Leave them out any longer, and they’ll start stinkin’ to high heaven.”

  John sat there for a moment with his mouth hidden behind his clasped hands. Then he gazed at his wife and stepdaughter from across the island. “I think we’ve been looking at this as a curse, JD’s return. But you know what, Maxine? It’s a blessing. We need to start thanking God he came back when he did, for Celeste’s sake.”

  First John rose from his chair and walked to Vivienne and took her hand. He drew the three together in a circle, though Maxine’s fingers were limp in his. “I’m thinking maybe I should dig out your mama’s secret stash of ice cream.”

  Chapter Eleven

  MAXINE PULLED INTO the parking lot of the gray stone church and let the car and her eyes idle for a moment on the Scripture etched in its cornerstone: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30.

  Built in the mid-1800s, the imposing granite once sheltered runaway slaves in its basement. Now Grace Chapel’s highly polished, heavy oak doors opened to men and women of all colors. To get there, congregants walked past deserted buildings and homes, broken windows winking and empty doorways yawning. Dandelions seized the day and the yards. Cracks in the sidewalk of the once-flourishing neighborhood caught the heels of women headed to Sunday service.

  Mount Laurel resembled other notches in the Bible Belt—that Southern swath of the country where houses of worship sprouted like crabgrass on nearly every corner—so on the Sabbath, folks swayed to gospel choirs in an African Methodist Episcopal church down the street and lifted their hands to acoustic guitars strumming contemporary Christian music in a nondenominational megachurch around the block. Hundreds of people still sought spiritual covering from the world’s deluge of trouble within Grace’s rock-solid walls.

  Every first and third Sunday Maxine was one of them as she bumped shoulders with Teddy, mumbling the verses in the hymnal they shared. She stared over her Bible at the back of his father’s salt-and-paprika-colored strands, her thoughts skittering away to her dreams from the night before. At the moment, Maxine wanted to skip today’s counseling and huddle in her car as Air Supply crooned “The One That You Love.” She felt more convicted at each of these sessions with the pastor.

  Then Teddy’s white Audi Q5 pulled beside Reverend Atwater’s silver Volkswagen Passat in the fenced parking lot. There was no turning back. Hastily Maxine removed her glasses and checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. She resettled her frames on her nose, slapped on a smile, and stepped from the car.

  “How are you, babe?” Teddy kissed her as they headed toward the church’s double doors.

  “Más o menos.” She waved her hand back and forth, using her grandfather’s words for “so-so.” “How are you?”

  “About the same. It’s been a long day, and it’s only two o’clock. Are we on for seeing your grandparents this weekend? Remember, we need to report in to the pastor.”

  “Still trying to get in his good graces?” Maxine teased as they stepped into the vestibule.

  Teddy leaned closer and whispered, “I see the seniors are singing this Sunday.” He led them toward the church office under the watchful gaze of a choir composed of men and women ranging from fifty-five to eighty years old. They swayed to the beat of their thudding feet as they crooned and moaned their way through a song that was both a testimony and a plea, entreating the couple to “Come on in the room.”

  Maxine nodded at the choir and then lowered her head, keeping her eyes on the red carpet and Theodore’s well-polished shoes.

  “I see y’all are still holding hands.” Beaming, Reverend Atwater rose from behind his desk.

  Teddy waved their clasped fingers in the air as if in victory. “Always, Pastor.”

  Maxine started when a petite woman in a flowy, knee-length brown dress stepped toward them from the sideboard. Muted flowers in iridescent colors caught the light as she approached.

  “By your look of surprise, I can see my husband didn’t tell you I’d be here.” She frowned at the reverend as she set two glasses of juice down in front of the chairs facing his desk.

  Atwater responded with a sheepish smile and drew her into their circle. “Please forgive me for neglecting to mention my wife would be here today, but Lilian’s schedule opened up Saturday night, and I jumped on it. I like to have her sit in at least once.”

  Teddy extended his hand. “It’s always good to see you. You know my fiancée, Maxine Owens.”

  “Maxine, I hope it’s okay if I join you.” Her smile wrapped itself around the couple.

  Maxine noted the if, her humble, two-letter request as she doffed her trench coat. After a moment’s hesitation she murmured, “Please do. And by the way, I love your dress.”

  Lilian’s eyes peered at her for a second, but then she wiggled her brows and held out her pleated skirt. “You’d better! It cost Willy a love offering or two!”

  “Willy?” Teddy glanced at the pastor.

  Reverend Atwater’s laugh flooded the room. “Believe me, I wasn’t born wearing this suit and tie.” He motioned a hand toward the two empty, upholstered armchairs—“Please”—as he pulled up an extra seat near his own. Lilian sat down and rested her hand atop his.

  “So during our last meeting we talked about the many pieces that make up your relationship—your parents, siblings, friends—and how they fit together to give me, and you most importantly, some perspective on the whole marriage puzzle. It was a good start, I think.”

  Teddy nodded vigorously. “We’ve planned a date with Lerenzo and Ruby Tagle, Maxine’s grandparents.”

  Maxine assented, but less enthusiastically, under the unblinking gaze of Mrs. Atwater.

  “Sounds good. Today, I thought Lilian and I could show you in a real, practical way how these pieces fit together for us. Maxine, you’ve grown up in a blended family. Correct?”

  Maxine shifted in her chair. “Yes, I guess that’s what you’d call it. My biological father died when I was eight, and Mother married First John a few years later. He didn’t have any other children though.”

  “So you’re the oldest.” Lilian’s tone was even.

  Maxine swiped at an invisible hair tickling her cheek. “Yes. I have four siblings—three brothers and a sister.”

  The room was quiet, but it seemed like even the walls knew she had more to say. Teddy turned to face her.

  Maxine uncrossed and recrossed her ankles as if she were an English duchess. “I’ve never told Teddy, but . . . when I was sev—no, eighteen—my parents adopted Celeste.”

  “What?” Her fiancé loosened his grip on her fingers and then dropped them altogether.

  “We don’t really talk about it. Or think about it, in fact. Until lately anyway. She’
s my sister. That’s all. It doesn’t matter who gave birth to her. Mother has always considered it ‘family business.’” Maxine used her now-free hands to make air quotes. “It’s no big deal to anybody but us.”

  “You made it a big deal by not telling me.”

  “Don’t look hurt, Teddy. Another family member couldn’t raise her, so my parents decided to. We don’t treat her any differently because she’s adopted.” Maxine risked skating closer to the hole in the ice, her heart contracting painfully in her chest. Each thump-thump reminded her of all she hadn’t shared.

  “Like I said, we just kept it among us. But now you’re becoming us. And I wanted to make sure it was okay with everybody else first before telling you. They’d already had Zan, and then they later had Second John and Robert. So I feel like I helped raise everybody. They . . . they all seem like my own. We’re a very close-knit group. Truly blended, to use your word.” The lies walked in step with the truth, but the words still tripped her up.

  Lilian sat quietly for another moment before she nodded. “I get that. You see, when I was two years old, I, too, was adopted. From China.” Then she chuckled at their confused expressions.

  Reverend Atwater joined in as he intertwined their fingers. “My wife is known in these parts for her sense of humor.” He shook his head. “Lilian grew up in Chicago. She moved to North Carolina in high school.”

  “I’m glad to see someone else makes bad jokes.” Teddy swiped imaginary sweat from his brow as he turned his attention to the other couple.

  “You got me.” Maxine’s shoulders relaxed as the tension between them eased.

  “Life’s too short for sadness, my dear. God mourns with us, and He laughs with us. Something I’ve learned over the past sixty years, and especially during my thirty-eight-year marriage to Willy. One of those lessons? Walk in truth and love.” Though her smile had faded, the lines around Lilian’s brown eyes hinted at her lighthearted spirit as she held up an almond-colored second finger.

  “And another lesson? ‘Count it all joy’ like the book of James says, and then cling to that joy. While I was joking about being adopted from China, I am half-Chinese, half-black. My parents adopted me when I was a toddler, but I could never shake the feeling of being inextricably pulled in two different directions. I’d spent my early years bouncing from one foster home to another, and I’d created pseudo memories of a mother who still wanted me, who was searching for me. I held on for dear life to that sense of abandonment and loss even though I didn’t know a thing about my biological parents. Once I was old enough to process that I was different, I resisted the very real love of my family. I resented them for stealing me from my home.” Lilian rolled her eyes.

  “Unlike your family with Celeste, Maxine, it was something I never stopped thinking about or pointing out, that I was adopted. I was always looking for something, always afraid that even what I had would be taken away from me, that I was less than because of the blood running through my veins that made my skin lighter and my hair silkier than my parents’, my brother’s, and my sister’s.”

  Maxine couldn’t fathom ever considering the beautiful, poised Lilian as “less than.”

  Lilian’s soft voice never wavered. “I didn’t trust my family’s very sincere, persistent love. This affected all my relationships and my choices—even before I met Willy and certainly after. And those choices begat more bad choices and more feelings of inadequacy.”

  Lilian’s words seemed tasty morsels to Reverend Atwater, and he didn’t miss a single bite. When she stopped talking, she leaned into him and nodded. Only then did he turn from her to address the other members in the room, ravenous diners around the table.

  “Lilian acted out—a lot—and put her family through some stuff, let me tell you. When her parents pursued her, showering her with love and forgiveness, she moved out, declared herself independent. Interestingly enough, she never missed a beat in high school. Lilian hid under her report card and convinced herself she wasn’t hurting anyone. She even went on to graduate at the top of her class.”

  Lilian leaned forward. “Valedictorian.”

  Reverend Atwater winked at his wife over his shoulder. He seemed more and more like “Willy” as he warmed to them. “Yes, but that changed your freshman year at Wheaton College, didn’t it?”

  “It certainly did. I nearly flunked out!” Lilian sounded like she still didn’t believe it.

  “But why a Christian school like Wheaton?” Maxine couldn’t stem her curiosity.

  “Because my parents offered to pay for it. I was rebellious and independent, but I wasn’t stupid enough to pass up a free education, especially near Chicago. Once I got there, however, I couldn’t continue floating through. It caught up to me. I think that’s what God used to wake me up, which is just like Him, isn’t it? He allowed my pride to bring me down to a place where I could see Him clearly.

  “Wheaton put me on academic probation, and I was forced to come back to North Carolina the fall semester of my sophomore year. And guess what? My parents welcomed me with open arms. They enrolled me in classes at the community college, helped me clean up my act, and most importantly, they took me to church. Again.” She looked at her husband.

  Reverend Atwater smiled at her as his eyes welled. “But that time she found the Lord, not that He was the one who was lost. He accepted her and she stopped resisting Him.”

  “Nose piercing and all,” Lilian finished. “I finally felt enough, just like I was.”

  Maxine couldn’t restrain her eyes from searching out the tiny dot on Lilian’s left nostril—which until now, she’d assumed was a mole or a freckle. Lilian caught her stare. She tapped the tiny diamond in her nose and winked at Maxine, who couldn’t hold back a smile even as her neck and cheeks warmed. “Where do you come in, Reverend Atwater?”

  “Yes, Willy,” Teddy chimed in.

  He laughed a little with the younger man. “Lilian and I met that semester she was home, when I was studying at UNC-G. We both volunteered at a homeless shelter. I saw her curly afro out to here.” The pastor held his hands about eighteen inches from his head. “She was beautiful, funny, smart, exciting. I just had to get to know her, and I felt it more and more every time I heard other people talking to her, laughing with her.”

  The light in Reverend Atwater’s eyes warmed Maxine’s heart as he continued.

  “Then one day after we’d handed out our last blanket, I worked up the nerve to ask her out for a hot dog. I was afraid we wouldn’t see each other again because she planned to go back to Wheaton. So while we were sitting there eating in Yum Yum—”

  “All beef. With pickle relish, onions, and yellow mustard. The best I’ve ever had, even better than in Chicago, I might add.” Lilian bumped her husband’s side.

  “So you’ve said, but nothing beats chili-and-slaw dogs with onions,” Reverend Atwater chuckled. “While she ate the second-best hot dog in the world, I asked her about the loop in her nose and the tiny diamond cross in the top of her earlobe, and boy, did she lay it on me. There I was, this boy from Mount Airy, North Carolina, whose biggest trial up to that point was convincing his daddy to let him drive his new Thunderbird, hearing how this ball of fire had nearly killed herself. And she loved God and herself enough to trust me, a stranger, with her testimony.” He sat silent a second or two.

  “I didn’t really trust you. I just thought you were cute and good for a meal.” Lilian poked Reverend Atwater’s shoulder. Then she rested her hand there.

  He turned and kissed her fingertips before facing Teddy and Maxine again.

  “Now we’ve never shared any of this before in our premarital sessions. Usually we take this time to share more anecdotal things, debate the nature versus nurture argument and how both sides will affect your future marriage. We field life-application questions from our engaged couples and answer as best we can. Hear about your dates with other couples. Important stuff. But I don’t know . . .” He and Lilian exchanged a look.

  His wife see
med to complete the pastor’s thought. “For some reason, God led us to open up about this today. We both felt it Saturday night, when I told Willy about my canceled luncheon. I don’t know why. God’s ways are higher, far beyond me. Maybe this was for you. Maybe it’s for us. But in all things, it’s for God. His glory.”

  Reverend Atwater brought his hands together in a loud clap! and leaned toward them across his desk. “So now’s the time to fess up.”

  Maxine’s eyes widened. “What?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no, not to us. To each other. Believe in the love of God and the love He gave you for one another. Consider this your freebie. Seriously, promise that to each other before you say a word.”

  Maxine cut a glance at Teddy, who was doing the same in her direction.

  “Go home. Pray about whatever baggage you’re carrying. Then either invite the other to help you carry it, or let it go altogether.”

  “But first, you need to be honest.” Lilian’s expression was warm yet sober. “Maxine has already opened the door by sharing about Celeste, right?” Lilian reached over the desk to the younger woman. “Why don’t we take it to God and send y’all to Dairy Queen since we’re so far from Greensboro?”

  Again, Maxine and Teddy’s eyes met—and held this time—before their own hands reached for each other across the arms of their chairs.

  ________

  “That was quite the talk!”

  Maxine and Teddy stood between their cars in the parking lot. Adrift on a deep lake of thought since uttering “Amen,” she didn’t respond to Teddy’s external processing. He wasn’t one to think, then speak.

  “So, Maxine, what did you think?”

  “It was . . . a lot to take in.” She pressed Unlock on her key fob as she thought about the stormy weather in their relationship’s forecast.

  “Hey. Wait.” Teddy grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. The arms encircling her prevented her from erecting a permanent home within herself.

  Maxine stiffened at first before she wrapped her arms around his waist and let him press her against her car door.