Heaven Forbid

by Lutishia Lovely

  “No.” It seemed as if time stood still while Stan’s one-word answer—which both knew was untrue—permeated the room.

  “I see.” Bryce rose from the table, leisurely took off his sports jacket, grabbed his glass, and walked over to the bar.

  Stan tried not to watch as Bryce sauntered to the counter. His friend had stayed in good shape over the years, his body lean and compact. Bryce wore jeans that complemented legs that seemed long for someone under six feet. The black polo shirt he wore was tight, emphasizing the muscles in his back and shoulders. Bryce had let his hair grow out since Stan had seen him at the Cathedral. His curly black locks tickled the shirt’s neckline. Bryce had gone from a pretty boy to a gorgeous man.

  Bryce turned unexpectedly and caught Stan staring at him. His smile was slight, yet knowing. “Refresh your drink?”

  Stan shook his head and got up to look out the window.

  “I was so hurt when you left me,” Bryce said, joining Stan at the window. “I went through a slew of unfulfilling male relationships, looking for what we had. After grad school, I spent a year in London and another in Africa, working for conglomerates. That’s where I met Sheila. Her father was a big shot at one of the companies. He barely approved of our union, didn’t think I had enough money to take care of his daughter in the style to which she was accustomed. But that didn’t matter.” Bryce chuckled softly. “I could take care of her in other ways.

  “We dated for years, but Sheila finally issued an ultimatum. She was nearing thirty and heard the proverbial biological clock ticking in her head. It wasn’t like I didn’t love the woman, and to this day I respect her. But I’d experienced a deeper level of love, and that’s what I was holding out for. Anyway, I finally ran out of reasons to say no. And her father offered me a ridiculous salary to become president of one of his companies. So I did it. We were married for twenty-one years.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “I turned fifty.” When Stan turned to Bryce with a questioning look, he continued. “I don’t know, man, but something happened. I went away, by myself, shortly after that birthday. Went to Mexico for a week, just me and my thoughts. I looked at my life, what worked and what didn’t. And I thought about you…a lot. By the time I came back home, I’d decided to take down the façade I’d created and live life on my terms, the way I want it”—Bryce looked at Stan—“the way I know it can be. I filed for divorce and resigned my position the same week. On the one hand, it was one of the most painful times in my life, but now I’m truly happy. And as soon as I get the love I want, my life will be complete.” Bryce stepped toward Stan. Stan took a step back.

  “Will you hug me?”

  “That’s not me anymore, Bryce. I’ve already told you that—”

  “Just a hug, nothing more. I’ve missed your arms around me.”

  Stan’s mind said no, but his arms said yes. They seemed to open of their own volition, and Bryce immediately stepped inside his embrace.

  Bryce’s scent was intoxicating, his touch electric, and after a long moment, Stan stepped away from him. He walked to a chair in the living room and sat down, physically signaling that the moment was over. Bryce said nothing, but rather followed him to the sitting area and sat down on the love seat opposite the chairs. They discussed many things: Stan’s marriage to Carla and the subsequent, very public divorce; Stan’s rise in the ministry; Bryce’s rise in politics; mutual friends; former teachers and their passion; the New York Knicks. As the hours went by, the two men conversed like the old friends they were, comfortable and easy, often finishing each other’s sentences as each man knew the other’s story.

  After laughing at memories of the down-the-back Jheri curl and Shaft-style leather coat that Bryce used to wear, Bryce asked Stan a question. “What about you? Do you still wear the panties? Remember how I used to rub them when you put them on?”

  Stan sobered for a minute.

  “Aw, c’mon, now. You can’t be embarrassed about that. There was something ultrasexy about a strong man like you wrapped in silk. That used to turn me on like nobody’s business!” Sensing Stan’s discomfort, Bryce stopped. “I’m sorry, Stan. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Really, man, sorry about that.”

  Stan rubbed his thin mustache a moment, before a smile scampered across his face. “Funny that you should mention those,” he said finally. “After I saw you in July, I went and bought some, started to wear them. I’d only done that occasionally over the years, and hadn’t at all since being married to Passion. But, yeah, after I saw you…”

  “You’re fighting it, aren’t you? What you’re feeling, between you and me?”

  Stan swallowed, hard. “There is no feeling between you and me, Bryce. Other than brotherly friendship and Christian love.”

  “Okay, man, if you say so. But for the record, I’m here, ready and waiting for you. If you ever decide differently, I think you and I could have something very, very special. We did once.”

  “That was a long time ago, during a time of experimentation—”

  “That lasted off and on for five years! It only ended because that’s what you wanted. You might call that an experiment, but I call it something else.”

  “I call it over,” Stan said finally. “I’ve changed. I am a heterosexual, period, with no desire to be with a man. And I am a husband who has always been faithful to his wife and who will continue to cleave only unto her.

  “You’d like Passion,” Stan continued. “The next time you’re in LA, please let me know. I’d love to invite you to the church and then over to our house for dinner. And in case you decide to marry again, a woman, there are several upstanding women at Logos Word who would make fine wives. God can change you, Bryce,” Stan finished. “The same way he changed me. If you let him.”

  “That’s just it,” Bryce countered quickly. “You felt that our love was something that needed to be changed, that it was wrong. I know differently. I know the truth. Our love was pure and magical. And it is the memories of that love that has given me the courage to make huge changes. Only my change wasn’t to run away from who I am, but rather to embrace it.”

  Conversation became sporadic after that, and before long, Bryce left the room. The next day, when they saw each other at Spread the Word Cathedral, the men were cordial and professional. Stan’s handshake was genuine as he bid Bryce good-bye and once again invited him to LA and Logos Word. “He’s a strong deliverer,” he whispered in Bryce’s ear as they shared a brief, brotherly embrace.

  “Good,” Bryce whispered back. “Then I’ll ask God to deliver you…into my arms.”

  Stan thought about Bryce all the way back to Los Angeles. He’d forgotten how much fun Bryce could be and admitted he’d missed their intelligent, spirited conversations. Even so, Stan knew that without a doubt, all future interactions with Bryce would be limited to the boardroom or a dining room boasting a meal that Passion either prepared or attended. Stan wanted to believe what he’d so confidently told Bryce, that he was a different man now, with no desire for what had once been between them. But had he really, truly changed? Stan didn’t want to put himself in the position, no pun intended, to be tested.

  17

  Some Explaining to Do

  Passion smiled as she watched Onyx cut out paper snowflakes. She’d learned how during a classroom project, and ever since, Onyx had been transfixed with the art. Half the kitchen and most of the downstairs great room were covered with her handiwork.

  “Do you like this one, Mama?” Onyx held up another of her masterpieces, this one looking more like a badly mangled scrap of paper than a flake.

  “It’s beautiful, darling,” Passion said. “I think that’s your best one yet!”

  An hour later, Passion had packed her daughter’s overnight bag and dropped her off for a sleepover. A Logos Word church member who worked in the office had a daughter Onyx’s age, and after a church trip to Disneyland, the two became best friends. One was at the other’s house at least twic
e a month. Stan had encouraged Passion to befriend the mother, a single woman who was roughly Passion’s age. But old habits died hard, and Passion had never been one for too many women friends.

  Passion returned home and began to clean up the mess her daughter had left behind. They had a cleaning woman, but Passion picked up out of boredom more than anything else. Things slowed down at Logos Word around the holidays, and no meetings were planned for the weekend. There would be a slew of rehearsals in preparation for the Christmas program, but Passion didn’t attend any of those.

  After tidying up the dining room, Passion went into the kitchen. It was Friday night, a noncooking day for Mrs. Lee. Passion, Stan, and Onyx usually went out to eat on Friday nights, along with Stan’s children if they were visiting. Other times it would just be her and Onyx, or like tonight, just her and Stan. Passion wasn’t particularly looking forward to dinner tonight, because after coming clean with what she knew, neither she nor her husband would have much of an appetite.

  Stan came home from the church office and, after a quick shower, donned a pair of dark gray slacks, an icy-gray shirt, and a black sports coat. Passion was dressed casually as well in a pair of black slacks with a multicolored sweater sporting a Christmas theme. Ever mindful of her status as prominent first lady, however, she’d carefully applied her makeup and had swept up her freshly permed hair into a simple yet stylish ponytail that she thought made her face appear slimmer. She’d gained fifteen pounds during this latest round of marital problems, specifically since about six months ago, when Stan had deemed sex “unclean.”

  These were Passion’s thoughts as Stan navigated the heavy Friday-night traffic, making his way to Beverly Hills and one of their favorite seafood restaurants. After their tussle in Texas and subsequent night of lovemaking, Passion had backed off with her demands, hoping that her husband would take the lead. But they’d only made love once since then, Thanksgiving night, again at Passion’s pleading.

  Since then, Passion had focused on church matters, Onyx, and preparing the house for a slew of visitors during the holiday season. All year, but especially now, Stan would often invite visiting ministers, special guests, or loyal church members over for coffee and conversation. Next week was her “sistah soiree,” when she invited the pastors and deacons wives over for a formal tea. She’d often been too busy to remember that she was not happy.

  “I think the Christmas program is going to be great this year,” Stan said.

  “Just like all the others,” Passion responded. “They’re always beautiful.”

  “The choir is working on a classical medley. I heard part of it and couldn’t believe those were singers I knew. Sounded like something you’d hear at Carnegie Hall or Lincoln Center in New York. But right after that, they’re singing some contemporary originals that the kids will like—R & B, hip-hop-sounding songs. I’m really impressed with our new minister of music. She’s a godsend.”

  “She’s very talented,” Passion agreed.

  They continued sharing small talk until they arrived at Crustaceans. After a generous tip to the mâitre d’, Stan and Passion were seated quickly, at an intimate booth near the back of the room, where they could see and be seen, yet still enjoy a private conversation. The next few minutes were consumed looking over the menus, and after ordering appetizers, Passion decided to take the conversation to a more personal level.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Oh, Lord…”

  Passion laughed. “I’ve been thinking about the holidays. Our three-year anniversary is coming up, and I thought about us taking a little getaway. Nothing too far away, but somewhere we can unwind when the holiday programs are over. What do you think about that: a weekend getaway, something romantic, just the two of us?”

  Stan took a sip of lemon water. “Something to think about,” was his noncommittal answer. “But I’ve got to coordinate it with Carla and the church. You know I work weekends, and that’s also when I have the kids.”

  After terse negotiations, Stan had finally conceded that Carla had as much right to their children as he did. The first year following their divorce, the kids had stayed with him and Passion, spending weekends with their mother. The following year, it had been about fifty-fifty, the children spending three days a week with Carla and four days with him. This year, with their heavier school loads, it had been decided that they would spend weekdays with Carla and weekends with the Lees. The arrangement had worked out, for the most part.

  Passion resisted the urge for a sarcastic comeback. She knew more than anybody how committed Stan was to his “weekend work,” and since she cooked and cared for the kids when they came over, she was more than a little aware of their schedule too.

  “I thought about that,” she replied instead. “And thought that maybe a middle-of-the-week getaway would be easier, someplace really nice and reasonably close, like Vancouver or Mexico.”

  “I don’t know, Passion. I’m pretty busy right now. Maybe we can take a trip in the summer, include the family.”

  Passion was grateful that the waiter came just then, delivering their appetizers and taking their dinner orders. Passion enjoyed some of her perfectly cooked baguette and crusty shrimp. “How are the satays?” she asked.

  “Delicious,” Stan replied, taking a hearty bite of the grilled beef that had been marinated in lemongrass and Asian herbs.

  After enjoying a bit more of the appetizer, Passion wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You know, Stan,” she said softly, “I think it would be good for us to spend some time together, alone. Your schedule has been so busy all year, and mine, too, between the church and the kids. I think there are some things we need to talk about, and it would be good to get away and have some meaningful conversation.”

  Stan wiped his mouth and tossed down his napkin. He spoke low but clearly. “You know what? I knew this reprieve was too good to be true, that it would only be a matter of time before you started hounding me again about taking care of your needs. We just did it, woman! But there’s never enough for you, is it? You are never satisfied.”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Passion growled, her voice barely above a whisper. “What, are you a holiday husband, giving up the nooky the way the government gives days off to celebrate? Am I to expect us to make love on Christmas and New Years, and then have to wait until Valentine’s Day? Humph. If that’s the case, I need to get me another calendar. One that records all the holidays, those in our country and all of the other countries as well.”

  Stan took a deep breath. “Let’s not do this, Passion. Let’s not fight. I don’t think now is a good time for a vacation. And I don’t think it’s a good time for deep conversation either; there’s too much on both our plates.”

  “Well, let me put something else on your plate,” Passion said pleasantly. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of silky white thong panties, extra-extra-large. “These aren’t mine,” she hissed as she discretely tossed them to Stan.

  Stan caught the incriminating garment, quickly pocketed the panties, and looked around the room. It seemed that no one else had noticed; each table seemed focused on its own party. “Woman, have you lost your mind?”

  “I haven’t lost my mind, but you’ve obviously lost your drawers. Oh, wait, rather hid them. I found your little treasure chest, the duffel bag on the top shelf of the garage. Now, you may not want to talk about anything deep, but Stanley Morris Lee, I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  18

  Just Dropped By

  “Page five, paragraph two!” the woman shouted as a young woman walked into Gospel Truth wearing makeup. She was referring to the Gospel Truth Member Manual that she’d pored over since receiving it four days before.

  “Twenty-five and three,” her cohort echoed, tsking a man who entered with an earring in his ear. The contents of this manual had occupied the conversation for most of their visit to Palestine. They’d not only discussed it, but obviously memorized much of it as well.

>   “Oh, no, you don’t, sistah,” the first woman admonished, stepping in front of the couple about to enter the sanctuary. “Your elbows and knees must be covered, and, sir, if you two aren’t married, you need to take your arm out from around her waist!”

  Oh, Lawd, Mama Max thought as she hurried from her car to the sidewalk leading up to the church. I should have known that inviting these two biddies down here was a bad idea!

  It hadn’t seemed so at the time. After a lengthy conversation with these good friends who were members of her church back in Kansas—Mount Zion—Mama Max had thought it would be a treat to have Elsie Wanthers and Margie Stokes (or Sistah Alrighty and Sistah Almighty respectively, as a former church member had aptly named them) join her and the reverend for the holidays. Both women were elderly with not much extended family. The previous year, they’d joined the Brooks for Thanksgiving and had spent Christmas with another Mount Zion family. This year, they’d had no plans. So Mama Max, in a moment of spontaneity, invited them to bring in the New Year in Texas.

  “Now look, sistahs,” she said, grabbing both ladies’ arms and pulling them to the side. “Not everyone coming in here has read the Gospel Truth handbook. These are the holidays, after all. Some of them are here visiting, just like you. Others are members who haven’t been here in a while.”

  “Don’t make no never mind,” the shorter, stout woman countered. She’d been so busy checking out the other women that she’d failed to notice that her white stockings had a run that snaked up her leg or that her salt-and-pepper afro wig was askew. “The good reverend doctor has written a manual for these here Christians to follow. It’s the truth I tell ya, every blessed word. This manual should be adopted across the nation.”

  “I’ve already put a call in to Queen Bee,” the taller, rail-thin woman added, referring to Mount Zion’s first lady, Tai Brook. “I told her that her father-in-law has written a book that needs to be adopted by our church immediately. I even offered to FedEx her a copy, but she assured me she could wait until I got back.”