They headed back out to the truck. “Once the two of you put your money together," Jasmine said, "I’m sure you’ll be able to afford something nice, so don’t sweat it, Joy.”
“Please. After we get married, we’ll probably spend the next five to ten years paying off our student loans. After that, we’ll be able to start saving for a house like this.”
Jasmine pulled a box out of the back of the truck. “I’m trying not to think about my student loans. At least your parents paid most of your tuition. But what I didn’t get in financial aid, I had to cover in student loans.”
Joy grabbed a box, and as they walked back to the house, she said, “Yeah, just when I started feeling grateful about not having so much debt to pay back after college, I met Troy and it seems like his middle name is debt.”
“See, if you would have listened to me, you would have hooked up with an older guy who'd already paid off his debt. That way he would be able to take care of you in style.”
They set the boxes down in the foyer and as they turned to go get more, Joy said, “I’m happy with Troy. Besides, my father had a lot of school debt when he married my mom, but they worked together and paid everything off. They’re living pretty well now.”
Jasmine didn’t respond. She grabbed the next box and took it into the house. They followed that same process until all the boxes were unloaded.
Exhausted, they sat down on the floor next to the boxes. Joy said, “I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.”
“I understand. I’m so tired; I don’t want to move from this spot.”
“I’m thirsty,” Joy said.
“We have lemonade and iced tea in the fridge.”
“I’ll take the lemonade.”
Jasmine stood. “I’ll be right back. Do you need anything else?”
“A pillow. I’m about to crash.” Joy pulled out her cell phone. “I’m going to have Troy come pick me up. Your man is taking too long.”
“Suit yourself, but he should be here any minute.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang. “Can you get that for me, Joy? I’m going to go get our drinks.”
“Sure,” Joy said. She got up and headed toward the front door. Before she could get to it, the doorbell rang again, and then the person on the outside started pounding on the door. Joy was walking as fast as she could, so whoever was so anxious would have to wait. She was too tired to move any faster.
By the time she got to the door, the doorbell rang for the third time. Joy was tempted to stand there a little longer and let the person on the other side of the door suffer a while longer. But when she looked through the peephole and saw her father, she immediately swung the door open.
As Nelson Marshall stepped into the house, he said, “I lost my key again.”
Joy didn’t hear him because as he was talking, she asked, “What are you doing here, Dad? Did Mom send you after me or something?”
Nelson swung around to face his daughter. His eyes widened. He stuttered, “Wh-what are y-you doing h-here?”
“I’m helping Jasmine move into her new house,” Joy told her father. Then with a look of confusion on her face, she asked, “If you didn’t know I was here, why did you come to Jasmine’s house?”
Before Nelson could respond, Jasmine walked into the room carrying two glasses of lemonade. She handed one to Joy and then walked over to Nelson, kissed him, and then handed him the other glass. “You’re late. What took you so long to get home?”
Nelson stepped back and turned toward his daughter. “I-I can explain.”
But Joy was figuring things out all on her own. Jasmine’s mystery man was her father, and the two of them had been sneaking around for over a year. “The person you need to explain something to is my mother,” Joy declared, storming into the family room and grabbing her purse.
This was too much for Joy. Her father wasn’t a cheater. He was a good man who went to work every day and attended church on Sundays with his family. But as she walked back into the entryway and saw the smirk on Jasmine’s face, Joy began to believe what her eyes were telling her.
“You did this on purpose,” Joy accused Jasmine. “You wanted me to know that my father was cheating on my mother.”
Jasmine put her arm around Nelson and said, “It’s time you knew the truth.”
Nelson stepped away from Jasmine again. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell her, Jasmine. You had no right bringing Joy here without letting me know.”
Tearfully, Joy said, “What are you doing, Dad? This is going to break Mother’s heart.”
Nelson tried to put his arm around Joy. She pulled away. “Your mother already knows that I want a divorce. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
Joy asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? I spoke to you last night, but I don’t recall you saying anything about divorcing my mother, so you could move in with someone young enough to be your daughter.”
“I’m a grown woman," Jasmine said, "and Nelson and I are happy, despite our age difference.”
Joy turned her back to Jasmine and held up her hand. “Don’t speak to me ever again. I am not interested in anything you have to say.” With that, Joy headed for the door.
“Don’t go like this, baby-girl," her father said. "I really want to help you understand why I decided to leave your mother.”
Joy opened the door and then shot back at her father, “Oh, I know exactly what was on your mind.” She walked through the door and slammed it behind her. Joy was so angry that she wanted to hit something. She had looked up to her father almost to the point of worship for as long as she could remember. Nelson Marshall had been a man of integrity… someone she, her brother and her mother could count on.
Tears rolled down Joy’s face as she walked away from her father’s new home. She heard the door open behind her, but didn’t stop or turn around to see who was coming after her. She wanted nothing to do with her so-called best friend or her dishonorable father.
What Jasmine and her father did, just about destroyed her. She’d lost faith and trust in everyone but her mom, and she’d eventually called off her wedding to Troy; a man who’d done nothing but love her. It hadn’t been Troy’s fault that Joy’s father was a cheater. But he and Joy had paid the price for it just the same. Now he wanted a character witness, she’d sooner see him rot in prison.
6
Psalm 30:9-10
What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? Shall it declare thy truth?
Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me; Lord, be thou my helper.
Joy tried to go on about her day and ignore Jasmine’s comment. But the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She’d told Lance that she would do nothing to help her father, and now Jasmine had the audacity to come to her office and threaten to have her subpoenaed. By lunch time, Joy decided that she’d had enough. Fuming, she jumped in her car and drove to Lance Bryant’s law office.
Stepping out of the car, she checked her appearance in the side view mirror. She loved the way her indigo blue and tan wrap dress with the sash at the waist not only looked professional, but felt feminine on her. He’d always seemed to turn whenever she strutted into court with this number on. She figured Lance would most likely drool all over himself when he saw her, but she couldn’t care less. Joy was there to give him a piece of her mind and nothing more.
She’d never been to his law office before, but as she walked in, she found that she was impressed by how spacious and well decorated the waiting area was. Abstract art decorated the walls and dark, comfortably cushioned furniture greeted guests that entered the Bryant and Associates office building.
“May I help you?” A petite, older woman behind the receptionist desk asked.
“I’m here to see Lance Bryant.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“He wanted to talk with me about setting a date,” Joy said without feeling the least bit troubled by stretching the truth.
“And you
r name?” the woman asked as she took off her glasses and picked up the phone.
“Tell him that Joy Marshall is here to see him.”
The receptionist turned away from Joy and called Lance. All Joy could hear was the one sided conversation of, “yes”, “that’s fine”, and “will do.” She hung up the phone and then told Joy, “Mr. Bryant will be with you momentarily.”
Joy sat down on the comfy looking sofa and proceeded to wait about fifteen minutes for Lance Bryant. She was just about to get up and leave his office, when he finally showed his face. Standing up, Joy told him, “I didn’t make you wait this long when you brought yourself unannounced to my office.”
“That’s only because you didn’t have a door to hide behind.”
“So you admit that you kept me waiting on purpose?” Right hand was on her hip and she was getting ready to let her neck roll.
“I admit no such thing. I’ve been extremely busy putting out fires lately.”
“As long as there are criminals, I’m sure you’ll have no shortage of fires to put out.”
Lance bowed before her. “I do try to do a good job for my clients who are always innocent until proven guilty.”
Joy was enjoying her back and forth spar with Lance. But she was about to bring him down. “I’m sure you know that my father is guilty as sin, especially since another defendant who appeared in his court has come forward and admitted that he also bribed your client.”
Glancing around the waiting room, Lance asked, “Would you like to step into my office so we can talk privately?”
Giving him an, I-got-your-number stare down, she said, “Oh, I thought you wanted to hold this little chit-chat in your waiting area. You certainly didn’t make any mention of your office until your client’s felonious activity came up.”
Lance had been enjoying the light banter with Joy, too, but he didn’t play when it came to his clients. With a look of seriousness on his face, he said, “If you’d like to discuss my client, I would prefer to do that in my office.” He turned and headed towards his office.
Joy followed, but she was a bit taken aback by the fact that Lance had not looked at her with the same hungry eyes… the way he’d been caught looking at her on numerous occasions. He hadn’t even noticed her dress—a dress that never failed to rein in compliments.
Lance seemed different towards her… uninterested was the word that came to mind. From the moment she’d gone up against Lance the first time, he had always given her that look. Joy had brushed off all of his advances, because she didn’t want to date anyone. But now she wondered why she was so bothered by Lance’s apparent lack of interest in her. Wasn’t that what she wanted… to be left alone?
“Have a seat,” Lance said as he closed the door behind them.
Glancing around his office, Joy was struck by some of the things she saw. He had the normal stuff: desk, chairs, sofa and work table, but on his credenza, there was also a statue of a man on bended knee with his hands steepled.
Noting where Joy was looking, Lance picked up his pint size statue and said, “This is just my little reminder that my clients need more than my skill as an attorney.” He set the statue back down and added, “They also need my prayers.”
Caught off guard by that comment, Joy couldn’t help but say, “I wouldn’t have pictured you as a church boy.”
“I bet you wouldn’t say that to my mama.” There was laughter in Lance’s voice as he added, “When I was a kid she bullied me unmercifully about going to church—said if I laid my head on her pillows every night, I could at least get up and go to church on Sunday.”
Joy and her brother, Dontae had grown up in church, also. Her mother and father encouraged them to get involved at church, but she didn’t recall any bullying. “Didn’t that make you mad?”
Lance nodded. “I did get upset a time or two when I was a teenager. But I thank God that my parents followed the words in Proverbs where it admonishes parents to Train up your child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”
Joy didn’t believe a word he said, and just about accused him of being a liar with the way she asked, “So you’re telling me that you never strayed away from God… not even while you were in college?”
Leaning against the credenza with his arms folded across his chest, he smiled at her. “I’d be lying if I told you that.”
Joy didn’t know how he did it. But standing there smiling, with those dimples dipping into his caramel cheeks, he transformed from a person she wanted to hate, to a man she could see herself loving.
“I strayed away from everything God and my Mama taught me when I was in college,” Lance continued, “but after a few hard knocks, I got my head together and went running back to the good Lord.”
Joy wasn’t planning to run back anytime soon. Her family had fallen apart and God hadn’t done anything to stop it from happening. Since she was a little girl, Joy had always believed that God could do anything… change people, make them better. But her father had only gotten worse. How was she ever supposed to trust God with anything after that?
“Joy, are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah sure, I’m fine.”
“Where did you go? You got this faraway look on your face.”
Joy rubbed her hand down her face and plastered on a smile. “Your comment caused me to think about something.” And then to change the subject, she pointed toward the same credenza, which also held a replica of a boxing ring with two boxing figures who looked beat down, worn out and ready to throw in the towel. “I suppose you’re a boxing fan?”
“Not really. I’m more of a football fan.”
“Then why do you have this replica of a boxing match in your office? Does this depict any particular boxer?” Joy couldn’t help herself, she had gone there to give Lance a piece of her mind, but she had to admit, she was curious about the man.
Lance nodded. “Mohammad Ali is one of the boxers in the ring.”
She pointed at the boxing replica and began jumping up and down as if she was on Family Feud and had the twenty thousand dollar answer. “Is it the Rumble in the Jungle?”
With an impressed look on his face, Lance asked, “What you know about the Ali and George Foreman fight?”
“Unlike you, my father is actually a boxing fanatic. When I was a kid, we’d spend Saturday afternoons watching old boxing matches.”
“My father is a boxing fan, too. Matter of fact, when I opened my law office, he came to my office and put that boxing ring on my credenza, and then he sat down and reminded me of something that I think about every time I’m about ready to throw in the towel and give up on a case.”
“I’m all ears,” Joy told him as she waited for him to continue.
Smiling ruefully, Lance said, “I can’t let you in on all my secrets.”
She turned back towards the boxing match, trying to pull the message out of it. At that moment she realized that if it wasn’t the Rumble in the Jungle, then it had to be, “Thrilla-in-Manila, the match between Ali and Joe Frazier.” Lance acknowledged that she was right, and then Joy said, “I know what your father told you, because mine told me the same thing years ago.”
“I’m all ears,” Lance said, mimicking her earlier statement.
“He reminded you about the last seconds in that fight. Joe Frazier’s trainer told him to quit, but Frazier said no. Meanwhile Mohammad Ali was on the other side of the ring telling his trainer that he wanted to quit. His trainer hesitated and then Frazier’s trainer called off the match, because he was afraid that Frazier might die if he continued. A lot of people think Frazier would have won if his trainer had just waited another second.”
“So, what’s the moral of the story?” Lance asked, wondering if he was standing in front of a kindred spirit.
“Pay attention to your opponent and never be the first one to blink.”
Lance smiled, and then he snuck in a right hook. “I take it that you and your father spent a lot of time together
? I was told that the two of you were once very close.”
That caught her off guard. Joy hadn’t meant to reveal anything of the relationship she once had with her father, but the boxing ring had taken her back… had reminded her of a father who once cared about putting smiles on his children’s faces. She was tired of thinking about her father… tired of being reminded of things that no longer mattered. Joy pulled her purse strap up on her shoulder and said, “Look, I have to get back to work. I just came here to tell you that I am not interested in being a character witness for my father. You see, I don’t believe he has any character. So, if you subpoena me, it will be to your client’s detriment.”
“Your father is very proud of you, Joy. He really wants to make amends for hurting you. I wish you would give him a chance.”
Lance looked so sincere that Joy almost thought her decision mattered to him. But he would be disappointed. “That won’t be happening any time soon, so I suggest you tell your client and his girlfriend to leave me alone.”
Lance reached out and touched Joy’s arm. His eyes were full of compassion as he said, “I’m sorry that your father’s infidelity hurt you.”
At that moment, Joy wanted to lay her head on Lance’s shoulder and let the tears fall. During her parents’ divorce, her mother had been such a basket case, that Joy had to be strong for her. As the years went by, she became angrier and angrier about the situation, but she had never taken the time to just be sad. Maybe if she would just let a few tears fall, she would be able to move past all the pain.
“Have you ever thought about forgiving your father for his shortcomings?”
He almost had her singing Kumbayah with him. But Joy wasn’t falling for it. Lance wanted her on the stand, being a character witness for her father. And there was no way that would ever happen. “Nice try, but I’m no amateur. I’ve gotten in the heads of my share of witnesses, also. Throw in the towel already, Counselor. You’re going to lose this one.” With that said, Joy turned and walked out of his office.
***
Lance couldn’t throw in the towel. It wasn’t in his nature. And he couldn’t help but stand there and watch as Joy strutted out of his office. He’d played it cool when he greeted her when she first arrived, but he’d noticed that dress she was wearing and wondered if it was legal for a dress to cling to a woman’s body like that. Her curves were in all the right places and if it wasn’t for the fact that Lance had been trying to get Joy out of his mind, he probably would have asked her out again.
Praise Him Anyhow - Volume 1 Page 14