Heaven Forbid

by Lutishia Lovely

  “I’m glad she’s active again,” Passion said, referencing the member who was the current topic of conversation. “She was so angry when her mother died.”

  “It’s understandable. Many people feel God has failed them when life doesn’t turn out the way they’ve planned, or when our prayers seemingly go unanswered. She hasn’t totally come to terms with her mother’s death, but she knows that God isn’t through with her yet.”

  “Maybe I should call her this week, invite her to lunch at the church.”

  Stan looked up. “That would be wonderful, Passion. I wish you would do more of that, socializing with the women in the church.”

  Passion felt this was a perfect segue into more personal matters. She had no problem being first in discussing something in her own life she’d like to change. “You’re right, Stan. I do need to reach out more—to women in general and to certain church members in particular. I never had a lot of female friends growing up…friends period, for that matter. I was always overweight, tall for my age. The other kids either teased me or bullied me, and I built up a pretty strong wall around me.

  “I had one friend growing up. Her name was Robin Cook.” Passion smiled at the memory. “She was just like me—fat, tall, disliked. We became inseparable and unstoppable and caused way more trouble together than we’d ever encountered apart.”

  “Oh, so are you telling me I married a bully?”

  “A bully and an instigator who’d beat your butt for looking at me wrong! I was not a happy kid and didn’t like seeing others happy, especially the cute, popular girls. They were the favorite targets of my wrath. But boys were not excluded. I was an equal-opportunity beat-down artist.”

  Stan laughed. “You and Robin keep in touch?”

  “We lost touch when I was fifteen. My family left Atlanta and moved here. Then, interestingly enough, I ran into her a few years ago, here in LA. We tried to get that best-friend camaraderie back, but our friendship was never the same. She died a short time later.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Yes, it was a weird situation, and a sad ending to a life I feel was never fully lived.”

  “There are some good, Christian women in our fellowship; you know who they are. I’m not sure they’ll join you in a fistfight, but they would be great company and a way to widen your circle….”

  “I think I’ll start next week. Invite the sistah to lunch and see how it goes from there.”

  Stan and Passion sipped their teas a moment. “What about you, Stan? I know that Reverend Doctor O is one of your mentors and that you are good friends with Derrick and King, but do you have friends from your childhood, friends outside the ministry?”

  “The ministry keeps me so busy that most friends outside of that world have dropped by the wayside. Like Bryce, for instance,” Stan said, deciding to start the discussion Passion wanted to have. Perhaps not running away from it would show Passion that he had nothing to hide. “He and I knew each other in college, but after graduating, I left D.C., moved here, and dove headfirst into ministry. We’d lost contact for more than twenty years, until I saw him in Detroit, at that first board meeting.”

  “I bet y’all were surprised to see each other.”

  “He wasn’t. Luke had told him of my involvement.”

  “But you were happy to see him?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Passion shrugged, wanting to keep the light atmosphere but determined to not back down. That’s what had been happening for the past three years, and why the effervescent woman of three years ago now seemed a shadow of her former self. “Any number of reasons. I didn’t go to college, but I can think of several high school classmates I wouldn’t be happy to see if I met them now. Were you and Bryce friends in college?”

  “What did you hear, Passion?”

  Passion looked away, then looked at Stan and told him.

  Stan’s emotions fluctuated from surprise, to anger, to defensiveness, and, finally, to relief. What Passion had heard was a rumor, pure and simple. He would simply deny it. “Do you believe I’m gay? Do you believe I’d actually kiss a man, or let one kiss me?”

  “I don’t know, Stan. That’s why I wanted us to talk.”

  “What is there to talk about? What would make you think this is something worthy of even one minute of conversation? I’m surprised you didn’t simply laugh it off and dismiss it immediately. It’s ludicrous, Passion. How could you believe this gossipmonger, over what you must know about me by now? I was your pastor, for what, five or six years before becoming your husband for the past three? You saw me with Carla; you know me with my children. Now you’re my wife, and yet you give this a moment’s thought?” Stan laughed. “I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

  “Hearing about the parking lot incident isn’t the only reason I wanted to speak with you, Stan,” Passion replied. “I only gave it any weight at all because of a call I received from Bryce’s ex-wife…Sheila Covington.”

  This was a verbal punch Stan had not expected. His ego deflated, and not even anger could fill it with air. What he realized in this moment was that he was tired of running, hiding, trying to keep up a front twenty-four hours a day. Maybe it was time to divorce Passion and live the rest of his life as a celibate minister. More and more single ministers were successfully running churches. Perhaps his life would be made much simpler if he wasn’t dealing with females at all on a personal level.

  “Do you want a divorce, Passion? Is that what this is about?”

  Now it was Passion who was taken aback. “No, Stan. What I want is to have a real, open, honest relationship with you. What I want is to help you, in whatever way I can. I took vows for better or worse, in sickness and health, and I meant them.

  “If you tell me these rumors are false and Sheila’s call was bogus, then I’ll believe you. But if you tell me something else, I’ll stand by your side. I love you, Stanley Morris Lee. And if you’ll be honest and let me in, I’m committed to being with you all the way…no matter what.”

  48

  Let the Past Stay in the Past

  A week later, Stan and Passion sat in the office of a leading relationship therapist who was especially popular in religious circles because in addition to being a psychologist, Dr. Ike Banner was a seminary graduate. He’d thought that traditional ministry would be his path in life, but God had other plans. Shortly after he obtained a doctorate degree, a fledging practice, owned by one of his father’s dear friends, practically landed in his lap. He’d honed his skills in the quiet town of Bend, Oregon, for twenty years before relocating to Rancho Palos Verdes ten years ago.

  If there was any doubt that his practice was different, his first three words after initial introductions eliminated all doubt. “Shall we pray?”

  Stan and Passion looked at each other briefly, smiled, and joined hands with the doctor. After a brief but heartfelt prayer, the three sat in Dr. Banner’s neatly appointed office.

  “Thank you for filling out the questionnaires prior to this meeting. I know it is extensive, but I’ve found it often helps the communication process to write down our thoughts before we voice them and to hear what you believe to be the sticking point in your relationship. I find that while a therapist may assist in bringing certain matters to light, each person is inherently in touch with their own truth. It is up to you two to make the journey of reconciliation.” Dr. Banner gave a brief initial assessment based on what he’d read and then turned to Passion. “You wrote about a very acrimonious first marriage and divorce, and then being celibate a large part of your life before meeting Stan. How do you think these experiences have affected the way you approach sex in this marriage?”

  “Sex was used as a weapon in my first marriage,” Passion began, grateful to unburden thoughts and words that had been lived but not uttered. “By both of us. There was very little intimacy during the last two years we were together, and from the time I became pregnant until we divorced, none at all. />
  “I recommitted my life to Christ after the divorce, and encouraged by Stan’s teachings”—Passion looked briefly at her husband—“vowed to remain celibate until I remarried. I was divorced for six years before Stan and I married. So…I would say that the effect celibacy had on me was that I very much wanted an active sex life when I got married.”

  Doctor Banner made notes while Passion spoke. When she finished, he simply nodded and turned his head to Stan.

  “Stan, you write that you were molested as a child. How do you feel this violation impacted your sex life?”

  Stan looked at Passion and then back at the doctor. “In every way. Being molested from the age of eight until I turned twelve impacted not only my sex life, but also my whole life.”

  “I know this is difficult, Stan. But we’re going to keep talking, day after day, week after week, month after month if we have to—until we get a breakthrough. Tell me about this aunt who molested you.”

  Stan stared hard at the doctor, but when he answered, he looked at Passion. “I can tell you about my aunt, but in truth, the person who molested me was my uncle.”

  In the forty years since the abuse began, Stan had never been totally honest about what had happened all those years ago. Whenever he’d recounted his abuse story, he’d said it was a woman who’d molested him. He’d repeated the lie so many time until sometimes he’d convinced himself that it was true. But seeing Bryce after all these years forced him to revisit the painful memories he’d buried.

  “It was a man, not a woman, who abused you?” Doctor Banner asked.

  “He would make me take off my clothes—” Stan paused and looked at Passion before looking away, out the window and into a distant past—“and then make me put on women’s underwear. Then he would…make me do things.”

  Passion swallowed a gasp as realization dawned. The panties that she’d so smugly thrown in his face at the restaurant were part of the residue that remained from his childhood trauma. Instinctively, she reached out a hand and placed it on Stan’s arm. He flinched but didn’t pull away.

  Doctor Banner’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Why did you tell your last therapist it was your aunt who abused you?”

  “You know why.”

  “There could be many reasons, Stan.”

  “I’m a Christian, Doctor, a pastor. To be molested by a woman is bad enough, but to be assaulted by a man, well, it would change how my members view me, how the world views me. That’s why no one will ever know.”

  Stan took Passion’s hand. “Thank God I’ve been delivered, Doctor, and have a supportive wife in my life. So that those things from the past can stay in the past.”

  “But are they in the past?” Doctor Banner probed. “Or are they in the present, interfering with you and your wife’s intimacy and driving a wedge into your marriage?”

  When the Lees returned home, there was a FedEx package waiting just inside the storm door. It was addressed to Stan, sent from an LA address. He went into his study to check phone messages and e-mails. Once he’d finished that, he opened the package. He recognized the writing at once.

  Stan:

  I knew you wouldn’t open a package from Detroit, so I asked Ryan to mail this while he handles some business in LA. I’m sorry if our last meeting was difficult for you, but I’m fighting for true love…what I know exists between the two of us.

  I hope that you enjoy the enclosed, and know that I’m thinking of you every moment, of every day.

  Bryce

  PS. I’ve waited twenty-five years, but I won’t wait forever…all my love.

  49

  Don’t Let Me Down

  “Don’t be nervous.” Carla reached over and gave Princess a reassuring squeeze.

  “I’m not,” Princess replied.

  Carla looked pointedly at Princess’s rapidly shaking leg.

  “It’s just a habit,” Princess said, laughing.

  “Uh-huh.”

  In actuality, Princess was more excited than nervous. The last two months had gone by in a whirlwind: finals, graduation, and now this—the debut of her first book. She’d been too busy to think about all that was going on and what could potentially happen once the book released. But she was getting ready to find out.

  Lavon spoke into Carla’s earpiece. “You look beautiful, baby. I’m gonna tear you up tonight.”

  Carla smiled and discreetly gave him a sign to cut it out. He knew she couldn’t respond, because even though they weren’t yet rolling, the audience members were all staring at her, and her mike could go live anytime. The spontaneity experienced in the studio was one of the treats that awaited the lucky guests who obtained tickets to her always-in-demand tapings. That this show would air live was an even more spectacular event.

  Princess looked out into the audience and smiled at her mother. Tai smiled back, as did the twins, Tee and Timothy, and her aunt Vivian. Several friends from college, including Princess’s roommate Sarah, sat nearby, as did Joni and Brandon. A few rows behind them, editor Serena and publicist Adele from the publishing company sat beaming like proud parents. Princess’s newly hired agent, Natalie, typed rapidly into her BlackBerry.

  The assistant director quieted the studio audience. The director counted down and pointed to Carla.

  “Good morning, afternoon, evening, whenever you’re tuning in. Baby, we have a fantabulous show for you today, introducing an exciting new author and her debut novel. I’m excited about this book for several reasons. But most of all, I’m excited because in reading this memoir, I believe spirits will be lifted and lives will be changed.

  “In an age when so many young people are trying to live the thug life, or get sexed up, or go after the bling, there are a group of young people out there who are holding it down for their generation and trying to make a difference. Please help me welcome one of them—Princess Brook.”

  The general audience applauded politely. Princess’s friends and family showed their enthusiasm. Once the applause died down, Carla continued. “Let’s get right into it, Princess, starting with the title of your book, Jesus Is My Boo.” Carla turned toward the audience. “Everybody in here knows what a ‘boo’ is, right? Your sweetheart, your main squeeze, your number-one man?” Some audience members laughed, others nodded. “How did that title come about?”

  Princess looked out at the audience. “I guess it happened after I dumped my cheating boyfriend and fell back in love with Christ.”

  Those forty-four television minutes went by faster than Princess could have imagined. The interview was easy. Talking to Carla was like talking to one’s best friend. She made it easy for Princess to share the painful details of that first year on campus, and she celebrated with her as she provided sketches of her comeback. As her agent, publicist, and Carla had suggested, she gave out just enough information to lure those watching into buying her book. Viewers knew she’d been cheated on but would have to read the book to learn that the other woman got pregnant around the same time Princess had an abortion. Tears on the faces of audience members let Princess know she was not alone in the pain of betrayal, with teenagers, twentysomethings, and older women as well. Midway through the show, she knew that whatever challenges she faced as a result of telling her story would be worth it. If one woman made different choices because of what she’d written, she’d deem her book a success.

  “You were fabulous!” Tai said once they were back in the greenroom. “I’m so proud of you, Princess.”

  “Thank you, Mama.”

  “Aw, she was aw-ight,” her younger brother, Timothy, interjected.

  “I told you the blue would look better on television than that sicko green you were going to wear,” Tee added in her usual, know-it-all tone.

  “And you were right, little sister,” Princess said.

  For the next thirty minutes, she was swamped with well-wishers. Her agent’s BlackBerry and iPhone were blowing up. Other television and radio stations were calling, as were newspapers, including LA Gosp
el. She didn’t know it, but Princess’s phone was blowing up too. By the time she’d check it an hour later, both her cell phone and her dorm phone mailboxes would be full.

  “You’ve got a bestseller on your hands,” Lavon whispered to Princess when he briefly stepped into the greenroom. “Hope you’re ready for the ride.”

  Kelvin sat staring at the now-muted television. He couldn’t believe the poised, confident woman he’d just watched on television was the same girl he’d turned out when she was eighteen. And was she that beautiful when they dated? He’d always thought Princess was hot, but her hair had grown longer, past her shoulders, and the loose, big curls accented her heart-shaped face. But it was her eyes that had him mesmerized from the beginning: large, brown, almond-shaped, and sparkled when she talked about her “boo.”

  His ringing cell phone brought him out of his reverie. “Speak.”

  “Did you see her?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.” Brandon laughed. “I bet you even TiVo’d it.”

  “Who?”

  Brandon couldn’t answer for laughing.

  “Forget you, dog,” Kelvin said, smiling. “Damn, she looks good.”

  “Even better in person. And you should have seen her after the show. Everybody in the audience got a copy of her book, and she stayed out front to sign some of them. They were clamoring for her autograph like she was already a celebrity!”

  “Who is she seeing now?”

  “Jesus is her boo. Did you listen to the show or just watch the images?”

  “Yeah, I heard all that. But who’s she with?”

  “You want to find out any of Princess’s business, buddy, you’re gonna have to wobble your crippled behind up here and ask her yourself!” Kelvin’s casts had been removed, and the doctors said his leg and arm had healed perfectly. But he was still on a crutch for the next three weeks. “Look, Joni just pulled up. I’ll hit you back later.”

  Kelvin tossed his phone on the couch and reached for his TiVo remote. He went back to the segment where Princess was talking about leaving the man who’d broken her heart—talking about him. His heart clutched as he watched the tears fill her eyes and knew he’d stop at nothing until he could wipe them away.