You Get What You Pray For

by E. N. Joy

  She wasn’t quite sure what was broken. Something was, though, and by the time she closed her eyes, she had an idea how to fix it.

  “A surprise wedding? Child, you done lost your mind,” Eleanor said as she and Lorain sat in the kitchen nook over at Eleanor’s place. Eleanor’s house wasn’t nearly as large as the main house, nor did she have a gourmet kitchen. But her kitchen was big enough for her to burn on that stove. And it was big enough to hold the residue of the bomb Lorain had just dropped. “But you’re already married.”

  “I know that, Mother, but Nick and I never had a real wedding, or the reception I promised him we’d have to make up for not having a real wedding.” Lorain was full of excitement as the wheels turned in her head as she contemplated how to make this the best wedding her husband could ever imagine.

  “Oh, I get it now. No real wedding and no real reception means you didn’t get no real gifts, either,” Eleanor mused. “Folks kill me with that. Especially the ones who want a wedding to be all small and intimate but then want to turn around and invite everybody and they mama to their big ole reception so they can rake in all the gifts they signed up for on their registry.” Eleanor let out a harrumph. “If I ain’t good enough to come to the wedding, then I ain’t good enough to come to no reception, bearing gifts, either.”

  “You know me better than that. It’s not about the gifts.” Lorain immediately shot down Eleanor’s theory. “I can go out and buy whatever I need, that is, if we didn’t already have everything we need.”

  “Be careful with your words. Having everything you want is completely different from having everything you need.”

  “Well, I feel like I have both. Apparently, though, Nick doesn’t have everything he needs, wants, whatever. A wedding ceremony must have meant more to him than he let on.”

  Eleanor took a sip of her coffee. “But, baby, I don’t understand why now. I could see if you guys renewed your vows for, like, your tenth anniversary or something like that. Even had an anniversary party for your fifth. But the whole shebang of a wedding ceremony seems strange, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask you.” Lorain said it as respectfully as she could.

  “Sure, you did. You asked me to help you plan a wedding for my future son-in-law, who happens to be my current son-in-law.” She cut her eyes at Lorain. “Uh-huh. That sounded stupid, didn’t it? Go on and admit it.”

  Lorain began to question why she’d ever decided to include her mother in this. After thinking about the idea all night, Lorain had finished getting herself dressed this morning and, as soon as the twins got on the bus, had headed straight to her mother’s place. She’d wanted to call her mother last night, when the idea first entered her mind. But had she woken her mother up out of her sleep, Eleanor might have shot more words than just stupid at her. So she had anxiously waited to share with her mother what she thought was a bright idea.

  Lorain had thought Eleanor would be as excited as she was, considering Eleanor hadn’t been too pleased about being robbed of the opportunity to plan her only child’s wedding when Nicholas and Lorain eloped. Perhaps too much time had elapsed and the novelty of it all was gone as far as Eleanor was concerned. So why couldn’t Nicholas get over it just as easily? That was one of the reasons why Lorain thought there might be more to Nicholas’s comment about their wedding.

  “Forget I even asked, Mother,” Lorain said, standing to leave.

  The white, hard plastic, contemporary bar stool spun slightly after Lorain lifted herself off it. Eleanor had copied the whole black-and-white kitchen theme at the main house. She loved her black- and white-checkered flooring. Her kitchen could substitute as a fifties malt shop. It was just more updated.

  “If I can plan a monthly meeting for the wives,” Lorain said, “then a wedding can’t be that much more difficult. Besides, I can have Sister Tamarra’s company do the catering. Unique will be my maid of honor, of course, so she can’t do any cooking. Sister Deborah is married to a New York Times bestselling author. I’ll have her get him to write an original poem to recite at our wedding, kind of like what Oprah had Pearl Cleage do at that all-women’s Legends Ball thing she had. Ooh, and Sister Paige knows she can blow. She definitely has to sing.”

  “Hold up.” Eleanor held up her hand. “Weren’t Paige and Tamarra on some basketball wives’ type of mess at Mother Doreen’s wedding? I heard them two got into it bad right in the church kitchen. I wouldn’t have those two nowhere in the same vicinity . . . or at least not near the wedding cake. From what Unique said, I think half the bridesmaids ended up wearing that cake.”

  Lorain thought for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. Oh, well, I’ll think of something.” Lorain tapped her foot. “Sister Helen can—”

  “Crazy Sister Helen? The one that has to take happy pills? The one I can’t even believe you got twitching up in front of your husband from nine to five as his receptionist?”

  “Come on, Mom. Everybody has a story. Don’t judge her.”

  “It’s hard not to when she stood right there in the middle of the singles’ ministry meeting and told all her business. Do you know that girl used to be a stripper?” Eleanor shook her head in disgust.

  “No, but I know a couple of first ladies who used to be one, and a prostitute too,” Lorain retorted. “Anyway, if I want to get this done in the next four months, I better start making phone calls. I haven’t talked to some of the women from New Day in a minute. That’s why I thought you could help by reaching out to a couple of them for me.”

  Although Lorain had chosen to leave New Day, Eleanor had remained a faithful member. She swore up and down that attending New Day was like being part of the cast of a real-life soap opera.

  “I guess I can help you out in that area,” Eleanor said, giving in. “You calling those women up that you barely keep in touch with wouldn’t seem right. But then again, this whole wedding business don’t seem right.” Eleanor put her hands on her hips. “What’s really going on?”

  “Nothing. I just want to give my husband something I’ve never given him before.”

  “I get that, but does it have to be a wedding that’s going to cost an arm and a leg and cause so much work? Wouldn’t oral pleasure be cheaper? Now that is something I’m sure you’ve never given him before that he’d much rather prefer . . . or not given him enough of, anyway. A man can never get enough—”

  “Mother, please!” Lorain spat in disgust. “I’m trying to talk to you about my wedding, not my sex life.” Lorain stormed off toward the kitchen door that led to the path to the main house. Before opening the door, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face her mother. “But for your information, I take great care of my husband, both in the bed and out. Thank you very much.”

  “And you are very welcome,” Eleanor replied. “’Cause like they say, you get it from your mama.” Eleanor began to do this little grinding dance move, gyrating her hips as she rose up off her stool.

  “Ugh, there is no talking to you sometimes.”

  “Then perhaps you should try talking to that husband of yours instead. Talk is cheap, but in this case, that would be a good thing, because it would be cheaper than throwing a wedding that probably isn’t even going to resolve whatever it is that’s going on over there under your roof, anyway.”

  “There’s nothing going on, Mother. Now, I’ve got a lot of work to do, and a little bit of time to do it in, if I want to pull this off by July. I wanted you to be a part of this, but obviously, that’s not going to happen. But I am having this wedding, with or without you.” Lorain walked out the door.

  Eleanor stood there, staring at the door, shaking her head and then saying, “Child, it ain’t me you need to be a part of this whole shenanigan of a wedding. It’s God.”

  Chapter 12

  “I can’t thank you first ladies enough for the support you’ve shown me,” Unique said, almost in tears as she packed up her Mary Kay products. She couldn’t believe these ten women had ordered almost three thousa
nd dollars’ worth of products from her. Not bad at all for the first Mary Kay party she’d hosted since returning to Malvonia two weeks ago. The bar was set high now, and Unique could only go higher.

  “Child, it’s you we should be thanking,” said First Lady Duncan, the president of the Malvonia First Ladies’ Club. “It’s hard out here for a first lady who is trying to keep a good grip on her earthly Lord with all these hoochies running around, trying to get their claws into him. We gotta do all we can do to keep it together.” She began to pat her hair, and the other first ladies giggled.

  The first ladies ranged in age from the early thirties to the late seventies. Besides being the wives of pastors, they all had something in common: they all secretly wanted to be the best-looking woman in the church come Sunday morning. Unique was glad to help them look their best with her skin-care and beauty enhancement products. However, Unique didn’t really consider these products beauty enhancements; she believed they merely helped draw attention to the women’s natural beauty. No enhancements were needed for what God had created.

  “I know how exclusive your quarterly get-togethers are, so letting me be a part of it is an honor,” Unique said. “Thank you, First Lady Duncan, for allowing me into your home.”

  “Baby, if we can keep you in that pink Cadillac of yours you’re driving, then we’ll have you at every meeting.” First Lady Duncan laughed. “We gotta support our sisters and their crafts.”

  Unique turned and looked out the picture window in First Lady Duncan’s living room. There were a couple of Cadillacs parked outside, but the pearl-pink one parked at the end of the driveway belonged to Unique. She’d earned it free and clear with her hard work and dedication to the Mary Kay brand. She’d come a long way since selling the products while living in her sister’s basement, trying to take care of three children. But she’d never given up. She’d never lost the faith, not even when she was behind bars.

  “Well, I sure do appreciate it,” Unique said. “And for those of you who ordered products that I didn’t have on hand, I’m going to put in the order first thing in the morning. When the products come in, I’ll contact you about delivery. And thank you all again.”

  Unique carried her items out to the car. Once everything was loaded, she climbed behind the wheel and started the ignition, but before pulling off, she sat there for a moment. She ran her hand across the dashboard, admiring the leather interior of her car. Even though she’d had the car for a year now, she swore it still had that new car smell. She inhaled. She could recall leaving a Mary Kay party several years ago and having to lug her totes down the street to the nearest bus stop. She exhaled.

  “I am a child of the King,” Unique said out loud to all the proverbial naysayers. She smiled, pulled out of the driveway, and headed for home.

  It was two o’clock in the afternoon. That gave Unique four hours to get home and rest up before she had to be at the reception hall where she was catering a wedding that evening.

  As Unique was about to turn onto her street, her cell phone rang. The caller’s name appeared across the digital screen on her dash. Her lips spread into a smile as she pressed the button on her steering wheel that allowed her to answer the call.

  “Hello,” she said, still smiling.

  “Hey, love.” The male voice rang through the car speakers. “How was your session?”

  “It was a blessing, indeed. Those first ladies ordered up some stuff,” Unique revealed.

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “How’s your mom?”

  “She’s doing pretty good. I actually just left from having lunch with her. She sends her love.”

  “Aw, I’m sending mine right back.”

  After a moment of silence Unique’s beau brought up the inevitable topic of discussion. “So, when am I going to get to see you? It’s been about two weeks since you left, and it feels more like two years.”

  Unique exhaled. “I don’t know. Between scheduling consultations with my Malvonia customers and catering, baby, I barely get to sleep.”

  “Then it doesn’t sound like you’ll make it back to West Virginia any time soon.” Disappointment laced his voice.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Another moment of silence. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t come to Malvonia to see you. After all, I haven’t been there since . . . well, you know . . . the wedding. There’s still a couple people I’m sure I need to apologize to while I’m there. My behavior was . . .” His words trailed off.

  “Baby, please don’t beat yourself up,” Unique said as she turned into the parking lot of her apartment complex. “Besides, that was years ago. Everyone has gotten over it and has long moved on. Mother Doreen and her husband forgave you, and those are the only people you need to be worried about. And they aren’t even here. They live in Kentucky,” Unique said. “Besides, once we all learned the full story, we kind of understood where you were coming from. If it had been my mother, Lord, have mercy, I probably would have done worse. Besides, the wedding ended up taking place, anyway, and now the lovely couple is living happily ever after. All is well, trust me. We talked about you like a dog, ran you into the ground, and were about to sic God on you, but we forgave you.” Unique laughed as she pulled in front of her apartment door, then turned the car off.

  “And I’m glad you did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given me the time of day. Now, that is something I’d truly never be able to forgive myself for, losing the woman I love.”

  Now there was dead silence. If Unique hadn’t already turned the car off, she probably would have driven it right into her living room. Had the person she’d fallen head over heels for confessed his love for her?

  “You there?” he asked.

  There was no response.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m here.” Unique regained her composure, but in the forefront of her mind, she wondered if she should respond to the L bomb that had just been dropped. “I just pulled up at my place, and I’m gathering my stuff.” She punked out. It didn’t feel right to say anything about how she felt after having paused for so long to think about it. The fact that she had to think about whether or not she loved someone back meant that any expression of love on her part would not seem genuine. It wasn’t as if she had to think about how she truly felt about this person. It was the fact that he had expressed his feelings first that had thrown her off, and nothing more. She prayed that God would give her a second chance to respond. And if Unique knew anything about God, it was that He was definitely a God of second chances.

  “There are no second chances here,” the twins’ dance coach said as all the girls and their mothers stood in the dressing room at the competition site, getting ready for their group performance. All the solo dancers had already performed. “If you don’t nail it out there, that’s it. The judges don’t let you do it twice,” she continued. “When you go out there, you are representing me. I’m a winner, which means you have to be winners. Anyone who taints my name, my record, will suffer the consequences.”

  The way the dance teacher spoke to the kids took some getting used to on Lorain’s part. Her manner seemed so dramatic and over the top, but oddly enough, most of the girls seemed to respond positively to it and dance their butts off every time. When Lorain snapped the first time the dance teacher was out of pocket when addressing Victoria and Heaven, another mother had to remove her from the room and calm her down.

  “You can’t take it personally,” the mother had told Lorain. “It’s how she is. It’s how all these dance teachers are. They’re here to make our little angels stars, even if it means giving ’em hell. But it builds character. Makes them tough. You and I both know life is not rainbows and penny candy. Our kids are going to come across some not-so-nice characters in this world. But you know what? They won’t be broken. After dealing with this . . .” She’d nodded toward the studio where the kids were rehearsing. “They’ll be able to withstand anything.”

  Lorain had taken the mo
ther’s words in, and as much as she’d wanted to snatch her girls out of that dance school, the other mother had made good sense. After all, the girls hadn’t flinched once when their teacher fussed at them. It was almost as if they had been told about her antics and couldn’t wait to experience them firsthand.

  “If she’s not fussing at us and calling us out, that’s when we should worry,” a very mature Victoria had told Lorain after class that day.

  Lorain had almost forgotten she’d raised such smart, strong girls. They had a wonderful relationship. If they ever felt some kind of way about the treatment they were receiving, she prayed that they would let her know. So Lorain toughened up and allowed the girls to remain in dance.

  “Now, on the count of three,” the dance teacher said as she continued preparing the girls for the group competition, which was only moments away, “I want everybody to say what we came here to do. All right?”

  The eight girls on the group competition dance team nodded.

  “One, two, three.”

  “We’re Malvonia’s best. We came here to beat the rest. Broadway Babes Dance Studio number one!” the girls chanted in unison, then screamed, cheered, and clapped.

  “Now, let’s go.” The dance teacher led the way as the mothers checked to see if there were any last-minute costume details that needed to be taken care of and made sure the girls had everything they needed.

  After checking the girls in backstage, the adults went and found seats in the audience so that they could watch the girls perform. They watched the current performers onstage and then another group before their girls performed. The eight young girls did a lyrical dance to a song the dance teacher’s husband had composed in his studio basement. The dance told the story of a girl who never seemed to fit in with the others.