If It Isn't Love

by Dwayne S. Joseph

  “Jeffrey, as wrong as it was, I’ve carried the exact same type of hate deep in my heart for years. Even though the Lord said it was wrong to hate, I let it consume me, and because of that, I’ve wronged you. Now I’ve been given a chance to make amends, because instead of taking me from this earth without hesitation, the Lord gave me leukemia. I couldn’t leave this life behind without telling you that you are my son and I love you unconditionally. You are and have always been a good boy. Who you choose to date is not for me to judge, but for me to support. Baby, you have that now. Sherry, if my son cares for you enough to bring you here, then I care for you too.”

  Sherry smiled and said a soft, “Thank you,” while Jeff stood and went to his mother. He never thought this day would come. “Mama, you can’t leave,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Sherry’s going to marry me. You have to be there.”

  Jean hugged her son tightly and then made motion for Sherry to join them. Sherry rose from her chair and did.

  “You take care of my son, you understand me?” Jean said, holding on to her.

  With tears flowing from her eyes, Sherry said, “I will. I promise.”

  Jean hugged her son and Sherry while everyone smiled.

  Everyone except Stewart.

  He sat silently in his chair, staring at his wife who was dying. His wife that he’d never been faithful to, yet who continued to love him. He’d recited the very same vows before God and their family, yet it wasn’t until now that he’d finally come to grips with how much of a hypocrite he’d been.

  Jean watched him staring back at her while Jeff and Sherry went back to their seats. Silence took center stage within the dining room and the spotlight was now shining on the head of the household. Karen held Alex and Monica’s hands. Jeff held onto Sherry’s.

  “Stewart,” Jean began in a soft yet unyielding tone. “I love you. I have since I first met you. Because I loved you, I married you and vowed to be your wife until my death. Stewart, as I always have, I’m going to keep to those vows, but because you’ve never been able to do the same for me, I’ve decided to move on.”

  Stewart’s mouth opened slightly. “Move on? What does that mean?”

  “I can’t stay with you anymore, Stewart. If Karen and Alex will have me, I’ll be moving in with them where I can be close to my grandchild.” Jean looked at Karen who was too stunned to do anything but nod.

  Stewart rose from his chair. “Jean, you are my wife, and you will not be moving anywhere!” he said sternly.

  “Yes, I am your wife, Stewart! I have stayed by your side and played the doting wife, who looked like a fool in everyone’s eyes, while you romanced every, and any woman that would have you.”

  “Now hold on a minute—” Stewart cut in sharply.

  Jean slammed her hand on the tabletop, causing juice to spill from a few of the glasses. Stewart as well as everyone else watched her with surprise. Never had she been so animated with him. “No, you hold on a minute, damn it! All these years went by and I allowed you to disrespect this entire family. It’s one thing to make me the laughing stock of the congregation and our friends, but you did it to our children too.”

  “Our children?”

  “Yes, our children. Why do you think Karen and Monica left North Carolina to go to school hours away from here and never came back?”

  Jean paused and looked at her daughters, who couldn’t believe she’d known. “You two never had to say why you left. I’m your mama, and I’ve been around the block. I know more than you think I know. Stewart, you provided for your family and made sure we never went without, but what you did was what you’re supposed to do when you have a family. If you truly wanted to be a man Stewart, then you would have practiced what you preach every Sunday. You are a good man, but you have a lot of growing up to do. And I simply don’t have the time to grow with you anymore. I did what I had to do with this family, and now it’s time for me to live my last few months on this earth in happiness.”

  Jean looked around the table, nodded her head, and then left the hushed dining room and went outside. She stood in the middle of the yard and took a long deep breath of fresh evening air. She held the air in her lungs, savoring it for a few seconds, then released it slowly, along with the weight she’d been carrying upon her shoulders.

  She was dying, but she’d never felt more alive than at that moment. She dropped to her knees and cried.

  With all eyes on him, Stewart stood contemplating what had occurred. He looked from his son to his daughters and cleared his throat. In their eyes he saw the painful but very real truth, which he had tried to deny for so long. He’d been the cause of the separation of his family. He cleared his throat again, then walked out of the dining room and went back to his favorite chair in the living room. He sat down and exhaled.

  His wife was leaving him.

  Stewart closed his eyes as tears leaked from them, and silently began to repent for his sins.

  26

  Bryce sat in the Greyhound station waiting for his bus to take him back to Maryland. The cab he’d called after leaving Monica’s parents’ house had dropped him off an hour ago. He still had another two hours to wait.

  He clenched and unclenched his jaws as a picture of Monica crying on the ground appeared in his mind. He could see her tears, feel her pain. He ground his teeth together and exhaled slowly. The weekend wasn’t supposed to go that way. While he knew they weren’t going to be where they were before, he’d at least hoped to have been on the road to resolution, no matter how bumpy it may have been. As long as he and Monica stayed on track, he would suffer through the dips and potholes. He would deal with the cracks. But he never got the chance, and now he was alone, contemplating a life without the woman that he loved.

  He looked to his right at a couple who sat with their hands intertwined. They talked quietly and smiled at each other. Bryce could see the love they shared in their eyes. He sighed and looked away. Their happiness only reminded him of what he’d lost.

  His thoughts went next to Nicole and the baby. He still had no idea if it was his. The prospect of fatherhood set free different emotions. On one level he felt anxiety. He never wanted to have a child to a woman that he didn’t love. He didn’t want to go through what Alex was going through with Mariah. He didn’t want to be bonded to Nicole in the way Alex and Mariah were bonded to each other.

  But even as he dealt with anxiety, he couldn’t deny that he was feeling pangs of excitement as well. He could quite possibly be the father of a child. A child that would follow his example, a child who would depend on him for the rest of his/ her life. As unfortunate as the situation was, there was joy to look forward to knowing that his existence could be more important than ever. But with the joy and stress, there was still the regretful knowledge that Monica may not be a part of his life to stand beside him. Wait, Mama Blige had said. How could he?

  He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Monica’s number, knowing that she wouldn’t answer. He hung up when her voice mail came on. He thought again about Mama Blige’s words to him. She said that if he loved Monica, he would respect her wishes and leave. Bryce did love her, and so he left. But he regretted his decision. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

  Wait and respect her wishes. Fight for her love.

  Which was the right thing to do?

  As he battled with his decision, an announcement came over the PA system:

  Attention Greyhound passengers, please listen to the following announcement carefully. The 6:00 bus to Baltimore, MD has broken down. All passengers waiting for that bus must now take the 4:00 bus to New York City, which will now make the stop in Baltimore. The bus is located in gate B, and it is now boarding and will be departing in fifteen minutes.

  Bryce sat quiet for a long while. He wanted to rip his ticket to shreds. He looked toward gate B. No one had moved in that direction. Bryce stood up and grabbed his bags and walked to the bus.

  27

  Karen stood outside in her parents’ backy
ard and caressed her belly, which now had a slight bulge. In a few months she would feel her child kicking, turning, and attempting to prepare for birth. She smiled at the thought of experiencing that. But as quickly as the smile came, it disappeared just as fast.

  Her mother was dying.

  Karen looked up to the sky through teary eyes.

  “Hey sis,” Monica said, coming behind her.

  Karen turned to see her sister walking toward her. “Hey.”

  “It’s warm out tonight.”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  “Remember when we used to come out here and look up to the sky, searching for our favorite singers?”

  Karen smiled at the recollection of their attempt to find their stars. “How could I forget?”

  “We were stupid,” Monica said with a laugh.

  “No more than every other kid at that time.”

  “True. Remember when Mama would have to force us away from here to go to bed?”

  “Yeah, I remember. What was it you used to say to her?”

  Monica laughed. “I would whine and say, “But, Mama, if we go to bed now, we gon’ miss our stars. And Michael Jackson is the biggest star there is.”

  “And Mama would always say, Chile, if you don’t moonwalk your behind into this house, I’ll show you stars all right.’ ”

  Both sisters laughed heartily now, thinking of the innocence of their youth.

  “Mama always did put us in our place back then,” Monica said.

  “What do you mean us? I was the oldest. I got it the worst.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t as spoiled as Jeff was.”

  “Yeah, well I still got it worse.”

  “Listen to you,” Monica said playfully tapping her sister’s arm.

  “It’s true though, and you know it.”

  “Whatever.”

  Both sisters got quiet then, looking upward and listening to the concert of the night created by the crickets and the subtle breeze blowing through the trees.

  “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Monica asked, breaking the silence. “We go all these years at odds with her and just as we resolve our issues, we find out she’s being taken away from us. Why did it have to happen this way?”

  Karen placed her arm around her sister’s shoulder.

  Monica continued on. “You know there was a lot about her that I didn’t understand. I never realized what she put herself through, what she endured for our happiness. I was unfair in judging her.”

  “We both were,” Karen said softly. “We both didn’t understand a lot of things.”

  “I saw nothing but weakness in her. I never gave her the credit she deserved. She hung in there for all of us, all our lives.”

  “You know, I wanted to hate her for not coming to my wedding. I wasn’t able to be completely happy that day because she didn’t come.”

  “I know. I remember the look in your eyes. I saw behind your smile. Do you think she would have accepted Alex if she weren’t ... dying?”

  Karen didn’t respond right away. She caressed her stomach and thought about her sister’s question. She wanted to say that yes, her mother would have eventually come to her senses because she wanted to do what was right for the family. Karen wanted to smile and say that without a doubt the leukemia had nothing to do with her mother’s sudden approval of her marriage, but she knew that she could not.

  Her mother wouldn’t have changed were it not for the diagnosis. That very honest, but painful admission should have lessened the joy she felt now that her mother had finally welcomed Alex into her heart, but it didn’t. Thanks to the leukemia, Karen had finally been able to get what she’d wanted years ago—her mother’s complete support.

  “No,” she said finally answering Monica. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  Monica nodded and placed her palm flat on her sister’s belly.

  “Mama’s dying,” she said with finality.

  Karen placed her hand on top of her sister’s. “Mama’s dying,” she repeated.

  Jeff stood by the kitchen window and watched his sisters. He wanted to join them, but he decided against it. His mother was dying; his sister was having a baby. With every passing is a birth. He sighed and watched his siblings. Now that his relationship with his mother was on a road to recovery, he wanted to work on getting closer to Monica and Karen. They’d never been as close as they could or should have been, although that was his fault. His mother’s news made him realize how short and unpredictable life could be. God had given him the opportunity to bond with his family again. He would just have to put forth the effort. He followed his sisters and looked up toward the sky. Somewhere within the black sea, his mother’s new home was being prepared.

  28

  Stewart stood at his podium just as he had for so many years and said not a word. The choir had just moved the souls of the dead and the living with the harmonic blend of their voices. The congregation stomped, clapped, felt the spirit move through them and now they were ready for their minister’s testimony.

  Stewart stood before them, silent and worn. He hadn’t slept a wink all night. He still couldn’t believe that Jean was dying. He couldn’t help but feel as though the leukemia had been brought on by his inability to be the husband that he should have been. That, if he’d never given in to the beckoning of flesh, death would never have been a topic at the dinner table, and she would never have made the decision to leave.

  Stewart repented his sins in his chair in the living room, in the darkness and vowed to never stray again. The next morning, despite his prayers, after Jeff drove off, Jean said good-bye and left with her daughters to head back to Maryland, leaving him alone.

  Stewart looked into the faces of his parishioners. He looked at the women, a few of whom he’d bedded. They stared back at him, each with their own private memory of their moment in time. Stewart looked into their eyes, hating himself for his transgressions. For the hurt and disrespect he’d caused his wife and children. For the shame he’d brought to his family. He cleared his throat and leaned forward into the microphone. He’d thrown away the sermon he had prepared on the joy of love. Joy of anything was the last thing he wanted to discuss. He looked into the congregation once again, hoping by some small miracle to see his wife and children there. But as he expected, they were not present.

  “Brothers and sisters,” he started slowly. His heart was aching, his mind struggling to bring forth the words. “Do you ever just say you’re sorry? Do you ever apologize for the wrong you’ve done?” He paused for a second, watching as many of the church members nodded their heads that they had. “Apologizing isn’t always easy to do. It’s not always easy admitting when we’ve done wrong to each other. We have to swallow our pride sometimes to do it, because let’s face it, no one likes to be wrong. But we all do wrong things. The funny thing is, when we sin, we assume that we’re hurting only other individuals, but that is not true. Because when we sin, we hurt not only other people, but ourselves as well. Did you realize that?

  “A sin is an infliction to the soul. And it doesn’t matter how big or small the sin is, because they all have the same effect. Little white lies, the lies we tell the most, are just as damaging as one big lie because those little white lies add up. How many of those do we all tell, brothers and sisters? How many times do we inflict ourselves or others? I wish it were the case, but none of us are perfect. We all sin, so again I ask you, do you ever just say sorry? Sorry for the lies, the sin, the pain?

  “Trust me, good people, someone right now is hurting because of something you’ve done or said, or didn’t say or didn’t do. You may be that person. Sorry. It’s only one word, but it can be so powerful. And just like everything else, that word can be abused. So when you say it, you must make sure you mean it. Sorry. Say it with me, brothers and sisters. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry,” the congregation repeated.

  “Say it louder. I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry!” everyone belted out again.

&nb
sp; “Louder! For those who aren’t here, for those who can’t hear you, I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “For those you’ve lost, for those who deserved to hear it years, weeks, days ago. I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry!” Stewart yelled out again as his knees buckled and he dropped to the ground.

  “I’m sorry!” the worshipers said again.

  On his knees now, tears spilling from his eyes, Stewart screamed, “I’m sorry!”

  The congregation repeated the words again, but softer this time.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Stewart yelled yet again, his shoulders slumped. His body shook. His tears fell. “I’m sorry!”

  No one spoke this time, but rather watched in stunned silence as their minister sobbed before them.

  Stewart didn’t care that he had an audience. His wife was gone, his children were gone. His sins were to blame. “I’m sorry!” he yelled out again, his voice weakening. He said it one more time, desperately hoping that Jean would hear. He whispered it again and again until someone came beside him and touched his shoulder. He looked up, praying it would be his wife.

  It wasn’t.

  Stewart bowed his head as he was helped to his feet and led away from the altar.

  29

  Six Months Later

  Karen tiptoed into the room, careful not to wake Alexia Jean, her precious gift born a week before her mother passed away. Karen smiled as she watched her bundle of joy sleep heavily just like her daddy did.

  Alexia Jean was born at 12:00 A.M. on Christmas Day. Karen’s mother passed away in her sleep at 12:00 A.M. on New Year’s Day. Karen lightly touched Alexia’s forehead.