Farther Than I Meant to Go, Longer Than I Meant to Stay

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “You’ve lost a lot, Charmayne, but I suspect that you have an inner strength to rival Rizpah’s. We are going to tap into it.”

  I laughed. If there was any hidden strength dwelling on the inside of me, I wished it would come forth. “Maybe. But my question is this. What did all Rizpah’s strength do for her? Her husband and sons weren’t any less dead after she sat on a rock for six months.”

  “True enough. She didn’t bring any of her dead loved ones back to life. But the Bible says that it wasn’t until her strength moved David to action that the Lord was entreated for the land. Her courage helped to lift the famine from Israel.”

  “I’m sure that she wasn’t thinking of Israel when she went through all that.”

  Dr. King replied, “She probably wasn’t. Nevertheless, her resilience through adversity had an impact on others. Don’t you think it will be a tremendous witness to the Lord when you make it through all your trials?”

  “If I make it through . . . ,” I said. I took one glance down at the scars on my arms, unsure what story I’d be able to tell.

  “Charmayne. You have got to stop trying to convince yourself that you’ve experienced a death-dealing blow. You have your health, your sanity—”

  “That’s questionable,” I interrupted.

  “Honey, you are not insane. When you woke up this morning, you knew your name and what day it was. You knew how to get up out of your bed and use the bathroom. There are folks out here a lot worse off than you. It’s time-out for your little pity party.”

  I hung my head and stared at my lap. She was right, of course. I’d been through adversity before. Losing my father was much more troubling than the Travis drama, and I’d come through in one piece. Even though I was only eighteen when it happened, I held my head up, went to college, and graduated with honors.

  When Dayna had gotten married, I’d found myself extremely distraught: My baby sister seemed to be passing me by. And yet I’d survived. My faith and prayers had kept me before, and surely they would continue to keep me. I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and looked up at Dr. King with new resolve in my eyes.

  She continued in a more subdued tone. “It’s all right, Charmayne. Everybody feels sorry for themselves at one time or another. Let’s just not stay there.”

  Dr. King was standing in front of me with one hand resting on my shoulder. Her touch was therapeutic and calming.

  I said softly, “Okay . . . so now what?”

  Dr. King sat down on her love seat. “Now we go back to the beginning of this whole mess.”

  We were finally talking about me. “What do you want to know, Dr. King?”

  “What was going on in your life when you met Travis? What was making you feel vulnerable?”

  I answered without hesitation, “Lynette was getting married . . .”

  CHAPTER Five

  Past

  “Michelle, do you know what it means to be a Christian in the workplace?”

  She sat silently, waiting for me to answer my own question. When it was obvious that I was waiting for a reply, she nodded.

  I continued, “Well, let me tell you what I think it means. At all times, you should exemplify what God has done in your life. That includes being responsible, honest, and trustworthy. You have to show people who don’t know Christ that there is something different about you.”

  I felt myself getting irritated, because Michelle was only barely paying attention. I could tell that she was nervous, and that she just wanted my speech to be over.

  I cut to the chase. “If your attendance doesn’t improve, I’m going to have to terminate you.”

  That sure got her attention. Her eyes started welling up, and I handed her a box of tissues.

  “You don’t have to cry, Michelle. This is not the end of the world. Just do better.”

  “Yes, Ms. Ellis. I will.”

  It was always hard for me to come down on employees, especially when they were saved and members of my own church. I thought that when I’d accepted the position as president, I’d never have to handle human resource issues again. I was supposed to have people working for me to handle all that ugliness. But Grace Savings and Loan was one of those for-us-by-us operations. It was owned and operated by a coalition of churches, and the entire executive board consisted of pastors and bishops.

  Michelle reiterated, “I promise I’ll do better. Just please don’t fire me. I’ve got bills to pay.”

  “Michelle, all you have to do to keep from being terminated is come to work. It’s as simple as that. For the next ninety days, I don’t care if your baby is sick. Ask your mama to watch him. Everyone knows how you abused the attendance policy. You have to show me that you value this opportunity, because there are a lot of people out here in need of a job. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ms. Ellis,” responded Michelle in a timid tone.

  “I guess that’s it, then. I know you will do better.”

  “I will,” she said again.

  Michelle got to her feet and grabbed two or three tissues for the road. I was hoping she’d hurry and take the waterworks back to her own desk. I hated to seem unsympathetic, but I had a whole list of things to do that did not include me soothing anyone’s hurt feelings.

  “Well, Sister Ellis, I’ll see you at church on Sunday.”

  “All right, now.”

  Soon after Michelle left, there was a knock on my office door. I hesitated to answer. I hoped that it wasn’t Michelle coming back, because I didn’t have anything else to say to her. The knock came again, more insistently. If it was Michelle, I couldn’t act like I wasn’t in my office. She had just walked out the door.

  “Yes?” I called, hoping and praying that it was anyone other than Michelle.

  “Maintenance.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the janitor coming to fix my broken chair. “Come in, please.”

  The man who opened my office door was not a typical maintenance man. He had stepped right out of someone’s dreams. He was at least six foot two, had skin the color of coffee with cream and piercing light brown eyes. His dark hair was styled in a neat tapered fade. I wanted to reach out and touch him to make sure he was real.

  I exhaled slowly and deliberately as he moved toward me in that tacky green uniform. Armani’d had this man in mind when he designed his first suit. But here he was, standing in front of my desk looking fine as I don’t know what, and asking me a question. I didn’t even hear what he was saying, though I distinctly saw his full, sensuous lips moving.

  “Ms. Ellis? The chair. Where is it?”

  I snapped out of my semi-trance and replied, “Oh. The chair. Uh, it’s over there in the corner.”

  He smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Okay. I’ll just get busy fixing it for you.”

  “All right.”

  The expensive and broken chair had been a treat to myself. The office was already quite ornate without the addition of a six-hundred-dollar ergonomic chair. When I’d accepted the position of president, I’d had the office redecorated. I chose a subtle African theme that boasted some original, costly artwork and a mahogany-and-glass desk. Wooden blinds on the windows added the special touch that made the office my safe haven. The chair had been the pièce de résistance, but broke after two days of sitting in it. Ergonomic had definitely not meant heavy-duty.

  I tried to get back to work while the man fixed the chair, but I was just a little bit distracted. Oh, who was I kidding? I was never going to get any work done with him in my office. It was on occasions like this that I really wished I looked like Lynette. She would have had no problem tossing her hair weave flirtatiously and asking the man out on a date.

  He started humming while he broke the chair into what looked like a hundred pieces. His voice had a deep, rich, and soothing tone. It was frighteningly masculine. I supposed that he could probably sing like Luther or Barry.

  “What are you humming?” I asked, trying to sound coquettish. It wasn’t working.
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  “I’m so sorry. I do that without even thinking. I must be disturbing you.”

  “Not at all,” I responded, “it’s a lovely tune. I think I’ve heard it before.”

  “It’s something my grandmother used to sing. A church hymn.”

  “It’s nice.”

  I turned to my computer screen and pulled up my e-mail before I said something completely out of character. As tenacious as I was in other areas of my life, I’d never been one of those women to pursue a man or even make the first move. I could single-handedly run a bank and graduate from college with honors, but when it came to talking to a man I went to pieces. I chalked it up to self-esteem issues, because I generally assumed the answer would be a flat-out, resounding no.

  “Ms. Ellis, can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, you may.” I answered, returning to my professional tone. The flirtatious femme was not working for me.

  “How can a man like me get to know a woman like you?”

  I laughed, because I didn’t know how else to respond. I hoped that it wasn’t his idea of a joke. Was I supposed to believe that this man, a perfect ten, wanted to get with me? He would’ve made the most beautiful woman in the office stop and stare.

  “Ms. Ellis, what’s so funny?” He sounded offended.

  I cleared my throat in a desperate attempt to regain my composure. “N-nothing. An inside joke.”

  “I’ve seen you come into the office every morning, and I’ve wanted to talk to you. I didn’t think that a bank executive would give a janitor the time of day. I guess I was right.”

  He couldn’t have been more wrong. “That’s not true. I mean, you could start by telling me your name.”

  “Travis. Travis Moon.”

  “Well, my name is Charmayne. So you can stop calling me Ms. Ellis.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Charmayne Ellis. After I fix this chair, do you think I could take you out for lunch?”

  I wanted to say yes. I’d never been noticed by a man as fine as Travis. But the president of the company out on a lunch date with a building maintenance man? My colleagues just wouldn’t have gotten it. And as much as I wanted to say yes, I wasn’t exactly bold enough to swim against the tide. But hadn’t I just the night before asked the Lord to send me a husband? Could Travis have finally been my answer after so long? And were his eyes actually twinkling?

  I offered the only rational reply: “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not? Oh, is it because I’m just a janitor? A low profession even for the blue-collar brothers.”

  “My brother, you are jumping to conclusions. If you were the janitor at the McDonald’s down the street, then it wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t want to appear to be unprofessional to my staff.”

  I watched a slow smile spread across his lips. “But you are attracted to me, right?”

  I smiled back without responding to the question. I had learned from my beautiful friends to never put all my cards on the table. There would be no admissions on my part until Travis put himself out there. But who was I to even think about playing pretty-girl games? And why would I even want to play games if this man had been sent by the Lord?

  Travis smiled, enjoying the game. “Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But how about this. What if I take you to a really secluded spot for dinner? I can guarantee there won’t be anyone there that you know, and you can meet me there.”

  I bit my lip and tried to gather my wits. I knew three things about the man already. His name was Travis, he was fine, and he had a job. But I needed to know one more thing before I accepted a date.

  “Travis, before I say yes I need to know if you are a Christian.” My voice trembled with nervousness. What if the answer was no?

  Travis exhaled as if relieved. “Whew. You had me worried for a second. Yes, I am, and I love the Lord.”

  I smiled, also relieved. “So what church do you go to?”

  Travis stuck his chest out and responded proudly, “Jesus Our Redeemer, Church of God in Christ. It’s on Eighty-ninth and Superior.”

  “I know it. It used to be a Catholic church, right?”

  “Yes. That’s the one. So, what about you, Charmayne? Where do you worship?”

  “Oh, me? I attend Bread of Life Apostolic.”

  Travis’s eyes lit up. He asked excitedly, “So are you in ministry or anything like that?”

  “No, well, not really. I’m not a preacher or evangelist if that’s what you’re asking. I do serve as an armor bearer for the First Lady.”

  “That’s a ministry,” Travis stated matter-of-factly while his deft fingers moved fluidly over the chair components.

  I had no idea how the man could concentrate. “Most people don’t see it that way. What about you?”

  “I am a minister in training.”

  “Well, all right.” It was my turn to be impressed.

  Travis cocked his head to one side and grinned coyly. “So now, if you’re done interrogating me, will you go out with me?”

  I laughed. “Wow. You’re persistent.”

  Travis looked me up and down. “I like what I see. Is Saturday night okay?”

  His stare sent a chill up my spine. “Yes, that’s fine,” I responded quickly. “Oh, no, wait. I’m in a wedding on Saturday.”

  “Do you have a date for the evening?”

  I wasn’t comfortable with what Travis was suggesting. “No . . . but . . .”

  “But what? Is anyone from work going to be there?”

  The nervousness had returned to my voice. “A few people.”

  Travis bit his lip thoughtfully. “Well, it’s up to you, I suppose.”

  It only took me a split second to decide. A man like Travis didn’t cross my path every day. Actually, a man like Travis had never crossed my path—not on purpose. Still, I almost couldn’t believe that I was writing the church address down on a piece of paper. It was the most impetuous thing I’d ever done in my life. I felt betrayed by my own limbs. My fingers were scribbling, and my head was steadily screaming No. My heart, of course, was a wide-open chasm aching for the possibility of love. And if not love, how about some romance? But why were scriptures coming to my memory—warning me? “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”

  I handed Travis the address. “The wedding starts at two.”

  “Thank you for the invitation.”

  “You’re welcome,” I replied, although I was almost sure that he’d invited himself.

  “And by the way, your chair is fixed. Should be good as new.”

  I walked over to the chair and sat down. As promised, it was fixed. Well, Travis had at least one talent. He was good with his hands. I allowed myself to imagine how they’d feel holding me. I thought that perhaps he could fix me.

  The wedding day had finally come, and I was as nervous as the bride. After I invited Travis to the wedding, I begged Lynette to let my dress be just a little different from the other bridesmaids’. There was no way I was going to let this man see me in a strapless gown. I would’ve been too self-conscious, and he probably would have decided that I wasn’t so attractive after all. It took me two days to find a seamstress who’d make a jacket for my dress.

  We were in the bathroom at the church, and Lynette was obsessing over everything. Her dress, her makeup, her shoes, and the imaginary pimple that she thought was emerging on the side of her nose. More importantly, she was having a critical case of last-minute wedding-day jitters.

  “Lynette, you have to stop crying if you want this mascara to set,” I said after applying the mascara for the third time. “You’re going to be walking down the aisle looking like a raccoon.”

  “I can’t do this, Charmayne. I’m not ready to get married.”

  I dabbed at the streaking mascara. “Look, heifer, we are not going to go through that today. You are about to get married and you are going to be happy. Period.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t know anyon
e who’s really happily married.” She truly looked worried.

  “Yes, you do. Pastor and First Lady are happy.”

  Lynette nodded as if suddenly relieved. “Okay, you’re right. But they’re the only ones I know who are truly happy.”

  Alicia was storming around the restroom, trying to make sure everyone was ready to start, because the ceremony was set to begin in fifteen minutes. Some of the bridesmaids were still walking around in their undergarments. “All right, everyone! Let’s hustle. We’ve got a wedding to do in minus fourteen minutes. Charmayne, I need you to take off that thing you’re wearing over your dress.”

  “It’s a jacket, and it goes with the dress.”

  “You’re wearing that? Nobody told me about that.”

  “Nobody had to tell you,” Lynette said. “Last time I checked this was my wedding. I don’t need your approval or permission for anything.”

  Insulted, Alicia stomped away. Lynette started applying lipstick and smiling at her reflection in the window. She was a beautiful bride.

  After blotting her lips with a tissue, Lynette said, “So tell me about this guy.”

  “It can wait until after the wedding.”

  “Girl, I need to get my mind off this thing for a minute. Tell me about the guy. What did you say his name was? Tony?”

  “It’s Travis, and I don’t know what to say. So far he’s incredible, but we haven’t been on a date yet. We haven’t even had a real conversation.”

  “Really? Then what’s so incredible about him?”

  “Just wait until you see him.”

  “He’s fine, huh?” she asked with a knowing glance.

  I fanned my face as if the temperature in the room had risen ten degrees. “Girl, yes.”

  “So how did you meet him?”

  “Uh . . . well, I met him at work.”

  For some reason, I was hesitant to tell Lynette that he was a maintenance man in my building. I was not embarrassed by his profession, but I thought that maybe she wouldn’t understand. I couldn’t even say that I understood.