The Ex Chronicles

by Penelope Christian

  “Listen, it will be over soon. The leads I have are close to finding the culprits. This is about our privacy…our children.”

  Tension stacked the air, so Maven plotted a quick escape.

  Moving stealthily out the kitchen, Kent barreled in laughing, and grabbed her around the waist. “Whoa, where you going, beautiful? I came in for samples. What’s cooking?” He looked around the quiet kitchen, then back at Maven. “What did I miss?”

  “That my life is on hold for some S.O.B. that snuck private moments of my kids to the press.” Sofia sobbed, and stomped out the kitchen.

  Kent reached for her, but Maven grabbed his arm. “I got it.”

  She ran after Sofia, and followed her outside on the back porch. Sitting on a bench, Sofia brushed away her tears. Maven sat next to her in silence.

  Sofia sighed. “I’m sorry, Mav.”

  “Sofi, don’t apologize.”

  Sofia shook her head. “No, I have to. You and Kent flew out here to celebrate with us and the kids, not counsel me on something I asked for.”

  Maven raised her brow. “Asked for?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to be the movie star. I wanted to be famous. No privacy for me, I get it. But Jazzy and J? I want the twins to grow up as normal as possible.”

  “I know, but don’t blame yourself, please?”

  Sofia shrugged. “What else is there to do when I see their faces splashed all over the blogs? Private moments in my home, in my neighborhood. Did you know Jacob fired all our staff? How could someone do this?”

  Maven rocked Sofia in her arms, as she sobbed.

  Looking up with red-brimmed eyes, Sofia said, “Did you know some nasty blog troll is trying to link Jacob with a neighbor in one of the photos?”

  Maven squeezed her hand, and they both jumped when they heard shouting. Kent and Jacob tumbled out the back door pushing and shoving each other. A man Maven had never seen before, stood behind them staring at her. He was an older Hispanic gentleman, wearing a tight black suit and telescope-lensed glasses.

  Jacob lurched forward toward Maven; Kent pulled him back and punched him in the face.

  “Kent!” Sofia screamed.

  Maven backed away, shaking her head. She didn’t know the man, but she knew she’d been made. Sofia jumped between Kent and Jacob and pushed Kent back. He wiped at the blood pouring from his nose, and his eyes met Maven’s. Pain, sorrow, and shame were there, and it turned Maven’s stomach. She bowled over, and wretched violently, her morning eggs spilling over her shoes.

  “Would somebody tell me what’s going on!” Sofia screamed.

  Leaning over, gripping her knees, Maven heard the man speak to her. “Hello, Misty.”

  “Misty? Who is that?” Sofia said.

  Jacob spit at Maven’s shoes. “The wench that sold our photos to the press.”

  Sofia paced the floor with her fist balled up. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was trying to process everything.

  “I-is, this true?” she spat in Maven’s direction.

  “I-I can explain,” Maven said.

  Sofia was seething. “You could have told me you needed money. You could have told me a lot of things…but you chose to betray me by selling photos of my kids?”

  Maven was convinced her hospital room came with a revolving door. Behind Sofia two boulder-shoulder twins squeezed in with matching outfits and ear-pieces.

  An elderly nurse followed them in, and looked between Sofia and Maven. Assessing the situation, she spoke in a calm tone. “Excuse me, visiting hours are over. Please leave the patient alone to rest. Feel free to come back in the morning.”

  Sofia snapped another photo, and waved the film around in the air. “Maybe, I’ll sell these photos on the market and make some money. I won’t be back tomorrow, but you’ll hear from my lawyer.” She sneered, and walked over to her security. “Oh, and by the way, Kent wants nothing to do with you or your invisible child, and Jacob requested you jump off a bridge. Good night.”

  Sofia stormed out; Maven collapsed against her bed, and sobbed.

  The elderly nurse took Maven in her arms, and rocked her slow. “Shhh, it’s okay, child.”

  Maven’s chest burned, and she couldn’t open her eyes to face anyone. The darkness seemed much more forgiving. She clutched the old lady’s body and cried until she was spent. Suddenly embarrassed, she pulled back and wiped at her face averting her eyes from the old woman.

  “I – I’m sorry…” Maven sniffed.

  “Hush, now.”

  The woman handed Maven a few tissues, and checked Maven’s monitors. Her face was a smooth sandy-brown and her hair fell in pearly-white waves around her face.

  Maven was caught staring at her, and the nurse gave her a warm smile. “Hello, Ms. Brooks. My name is Eugena Little. I’m your nurse for the evening.”

  Maven pulled the covers up to her chest, and blew her nose.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, child. We don’t need proper greetings to comfort each other.”

  Tears pooled in Maven’s eyes once again. Could this woman see to her soul, too? She covered her face with her hands. “There is no comfort for the evil.”

  Nurse Little drew back. “Evil?”

  Maven nodded. “Evil. Pathetic. Disgusting.”

  Holding a finger up, Nurse Little spoke. “Quiet…don’t speak those things over yourself.”

  “Why? They are true,” Maven whispered.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  Kneading the sheets through her fingers, Maven let the tears fall. “I sold a few intimate family photos to the press of my best friend, Sofia, and her family.” Maven sniffed. “I didn’t think they would be spread over all the blogs…I lied to my fiancé about being pregnant so he wouldn’t leave me because of it…I betrayed them both. Over money…guess that’s what I get for thinking I belonged in their world.”

  Nurse Little stopped in the middle of checking Maven’s vitals. “Their world?”

  “Yes, I grew up poor, they didn’t. Sofi didn’t know when she met me in college, but I practically begged and bartered my way in. Sofia was beautiful, smart, funny…everything I wanted to be. And her brother. He was a prime catch. Fine, ambitious…unattached. I had it made when I met them. I finally had somewhere to belong…and now they’re gone.”

  Maven shifted to get comfortable, and winced from the pain in her side. Nurse Little handed her two pills and a glass of water.

  “How did you end up here?”

  Maven downed the medicine and set her cup down. A wave of anger swept over her and she sneered. “What did they expect me to do? I wanted the big house, too. And the pretty kids. And the perfect life. Kent wasn’t moving fast enough!” Picking up the glass of water, she threw it across the room and sobbed again. “Kent told me he was ashamed of me. Ashamed he fell in love with me. Ashamed to have even met me. He kicked me out of our apartment, and I had nowhere else to go. A few tramps at the shelter jumped me for the clothes and shoes I had on, and I ended up here. Frankly, I can see why he doesn’t want me. I don’t want me either.”

  Nurse Little sighed, and sat on the end of the bed. “Do you believe in Jesus, sweet child?”

  “Sweet?” Maven snorted. “I’m anything but that. I do believe in Him, but what would He do with me? I’ve lied, and cheated amongst other things…why would He care what’s happening to me? My granny would have thrown the bible at me three times if she could see me now. I don’t even call myself a Christian anymore, with all the sinning I’ve been doing.”

  “If you believe in Jesus, it’s not about what you’ve done, but what He’s done for you,” Nurse Little said.

  Maven scrunched up her nose. “Huh?”

  “Jesus died on the cross for our sins, so we don’t have to carry them. We are cleansed of all our sin from the past, present and future. Forever. Jesus took that burden on Himself. He is Grace. Our undeserved favor from God.”

  Cocking her head to the side, Maven said, “What does that mean?”

>   Nurse Little squeezed Maven’s arms. “It means that no matter how man sees you, or how you see yourself, God sees the real you through Jesus.”

  “And…who is that? Who is the real me?”

  “Righteous. Justified. Favored. Extravagantly Loved. Always right with God.”

  Maven stared at the nurse who grew four arms, and legs in her head. Was this lady serious? “But…Isn’t God ashamed of me, too? I’ve done horrible things.”

  Nurse Little shook her head. “No. Jesus came so that we may have Life. His blood washes away all of ours sin. We have been forgiven!”

  “Forgiven? But that’s…”

  Raising her hands high, Nurse Little exclaimed, “The Good news! Grace is Jesus!”

  “Will my fiance’ and best friend ever forgive me?” Maven pondered.

  The nurse grabbed a hold of Maven’s shoulders, and looked her in the eyes. “The question is will you forgive yourself?”

  Maven paused, then said, “I don’t deserve to forgive myself.”

  “Honey, none of us do. That’s why this is over-the-top good news! Jesus came to die for us, even though we didn’t deserve it. Grace is underserved. It’s our free gift, for believing in Him…and if our mighty God can forgive us, you should forgive yourself.”

  The dull ache in Maven’s chest slowly lifted. “Wow…”

  Nurse Little cupped Maven’s face in her delicate hands. “You are in Jesus Christ, sweet child. You belong to Him. Old things have passed away. Break up with your ex-self. That old way of living is gone. That old you is gone. . Believe you are righteous, and move forward. Totally. Forgiven.”

  Maven stared at her in wonder. “No shame?”

  A smile lifted Nurse Little’s face. “No. Shame. You are forgiven and loved, Child of God. Run to Jesus.”

  Maven closed her eyes and let Nurse Eugena’s light surround her and, and she spoke from her heart. “I. am. Forgiven.”

  Three days later, Maven hugged Nurse Little and walked out the hospital with her head held high. Opening the door to a cab, she smiled at the driver who was ready to take her anywhere she wanted to go. First thing on her agenda was an apartment. She hadn’t heard from Kent or Sofia, but she was moving forward. Maven wanted their forgiveness but she wasn’t going to live in misery. She’d been there and done that. The new Maven wanted to start over. To be guilt-free.

  Her thoughts traveled back to Kent’s face, then to Sofia’s laugh, and she shook her head.

  Maven spoke out loud, “I am forgiven. God Loves me. No more Shame.”

  Glancing at the hospital one more time, she slipped in the cab and shut the door.

  Penelope Christian, is a freelance writer who often credits nature, random happenings at the airport, and quirky personalities as her creative muses. Her debut novel, Coffee & Cream will release in 2016. For more updates connect with her on Facebook: Penelope Christian and Instagram @p_christian_ and www.penelopechristian.com.

  The Circle of Life

  By Sharon Lucas

  Chapter 1

  How did I allow my mother to convince me to attend this funeral? There are some things you just don’t have to experience twice. For me, this man died years ago, so why am I sitting in the back of this dingy little storefront church trying to appear as if I am deep in grief?

  I can’t believe it. Was it really almost 30 years ago? I was 24 years old, had just received my MBA and recently moved into my first really nice apartment 200 miles away from home and my parents. I had a good job with a prestigious university, I was cute and I dressed flyyy! In other words, I was smelling myself!

  Mom and Pop were old school! No dating until I turned 16; they preferred group outings, and the curfew was midnight until I left for college. Now don’t get the idea I was a Miss Goody Two Shoes! I did my share of going steady – though no one knew about it except my best friend, Tarsha, my steady of the moment, and me! I was scared to go too far, because I had witnessed the wrath of my family toward my cousin Gwen, when, in her junior year, she had to leave regular school and attend the high school for pregnant girls.

  Gwen’s parents didn’t play. They were supportive and didn’t disown her as they were counseled to do by the Bishop Gray of the Temple of Divine Grace. But they made it clear that Little Ron – named for his grandfather because no one was allowed to even utter his dad’s name in their home – was her child!

  I once spent the weekend at their house while, my parents were away, and I wasn’t there more than a few hours before I knew changing diapers and fixing bottles in between homework and housework was simply not my style. After that experience, I vowed to keep my little legs closed until much later in life. Goodness that was a lifetime ago!

  Gwen had long since reprieved herself in the eyes of the family, when she finished school and went on to become a registered nurse. She and Little Ron were a twosome until she married a local dentist, a widower with two young girls. Little Ron and the girls were all grown up now, married with children of their own. Gwen and her husband still acted like newlyweds.

  I kept my vow about closed legs through high school, through college, and even through grad school. Okay! I can’t lie, even to myself. During my last visit to the doctor before I left home for my freshman year at Howard, I requested birth control pills. I knew it was time for me to pull up my big girl panties and prepare myself for womanhood. After all, Mom would no longer be sitting up waiting to see if I came through the door before midnight.

  Chapter 2

  My walk down memory lane was interrupted by the sound of the organist as he began to softly play “Amazing Grace.” For several minutes I tried to listen, but soon I was again adrift in memories.

  I never went back home to live once I left for college. I attended summer school one year, found a job on campus another, and then accepted a summer internship in San Diego, where I lived with my roommate and her family that last summer before graduation.

  My goal was to complete my four-year program in four years. I didn’t want to extend my undergrad experience by even one semester. I didn’t want to end up like several of my friends who allowed playing bid whist in the student union to turn a four-year program into five years.

  Don’t get it twisted, I loved college life – the camaraderie, pledging a sorority and even the partying, but most of all I loved being free to make my own decisions. I had set a goal! I intended to have my Masters before I turned 24. Yes, I was naïve! I forgot that all work and no play would make Jill a very dull girl.

  Suddenly, I realized where I was and that someone had sat down beside me and was talking to me.

  “Are you a friend of the deceased?” she said.

  I looked up. “Yes,” I responded. “I was, but I hadn’t seen him in years.”

  “I worked with him,” the woman said. “Isn’t it a shame how quickly he went after being diagnosed? That’s why I stay in the doctor’s office. Early detection is so important,” she added. I simply smiled and nodded my agreement, praying all the while that this would not become an involved conversation.

  She sat for a few more seconds and then announced she saw some coworkers and thought she’d go sit with them. I waited until she left before I exhaled a sigh of relief.

  Again, thoughts of the past reclaimed me.

  Chapter 3

  Mom and Dad flew from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles for my graduation from grad school. It was their first time on the west coast and we made it a vacation. I was so proud to show them around. Once they learned I had accepted a position with Georgetown University as the Assistant Director of Minority Recruiting, you could see the relief on their faces. They were ecstatic to learn that their only child would soon be only a short drive away in D.C.

  Because I had already spent four years in the city, it wasn’t hard to get back in the groove. I knew a lot about the area and many of my friends from Howard were still there. Some were working and still struggling to get their degree. Some were married with families. Only a few of us had stable jobs with
good salaries and were happily still single.

  Back then D.C. was called Chocolate City and there were good-looking black men on every corner. Friday meant leaving work and going directly to the nearest and most popular watering hole. In most offices around the city, you could tell it was Friday simply by looking at the fashion show at work that day. We hadn’t quite perfected how to transition from office attire to hang out gear, so Friday outfits were often a cross between “just a little too dressy and revealing for work” and “you better not wear that mess to church on Sunday.”

  I could no longer recall the names of many of those places, but I do remember Hogates on the wharf was one of my favorites. We thought we were so liberated. We thought we worked hard and felt we deserved to play hard.

  I found a very nice and affordable condo in the Southwest section of the city. I could walk out, jump on a bus and arrive at work in less than 15 minutes. On a nice evening, I could walk to Hogates. Hogates! Where I met Him!

  “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord,” was the line I heard the minister say as he slowly preceded the family down the aisle of the church to their seats.

  “Oh my goodness,” I thought, as I realized that during my last mental break from reality, the undertaker had closed the casket. Well, that did eliminate people looking at me funny had I been put in the position of having to nod a polite “no thank you” as I refused the usher’s urging to view the deceased one last time.

  I looked down at the program to try to gauge how long I was going to be trapped here. I soon realized I was in a Pentecostal church and it looked like all 35 people there with me – 10 of them in the pulpit – were listed to speak, sing or read.

  Lord, please help me!

  Chapter 4

  Tarsha, my best friend from home, newly divorced and “ready for Freddie” came to spend the weekend with me that summer to celebrate her newfound freedom in style. It hadn’t yet dawned on her that the two children she left with her mother for the weekend was an indication that she was not free. She would be tied to that man for the rest of her life and it was not going to be easy to find a new man who would accept and do right by her and the kids. But that’s another story for another day.