Every Woman Needs a Praying Man

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Every Woman Needs a Praying Man Page 11

by Pat Simmons


  “Honey, I was talking about you and Tyson.” She frowned. “I saw the way he hovered over you at the ball, then disappeared when you left…”

  Was there anything this woman didn’t see? “My happiness today is because Jesus saved my soul yesterday.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s nice, dear, but I thought it had to do with Tyson strolling in here not long ago with a similar bounce as you. He was whistling and winked at me—he never does that! Plus, he was carrying a gift. He didn’t give it to me…” she rambled.

  Tyson had informed her about a morning meeting that he and Reggie had to attend. However, she didn’t think he would stop by the office first. “Thanks for the heads up.” She continued on her way.

  Monica barked out her laugh, then slapped her hand over her mouth when she spied the gift centered on her seat. Mrs. Coates had to have 20/20 vision to zoom in on a box small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.

  “And when did you do this, Mr. Graham?” she mumbled and removed the lid. Her heart fluttered as she lifted a silver chain with a small heart dangling from it. ME was engraved on one side, YOU was on the back. She smiled, reading the enclosed note: This goes with the Valentine’s flowers. It was March and he was still stuck in February.

  Solae appeared, rubbing her hands. “When did you get here? I saw Tyson leaving your desk as I was coming in, so what you get?”

  “Is nothing secret around here?” She displayed the necklace.

  “Nope. It’s beautiful.” She grabbed Monica’s hands. “I’m glad you responded to God’s call for salvation at church yesterday. The Bible says God delights in doing great things for His children, so God is going to do mighty works in your life.”

  “I hope so.” She forced back the doubt the devil was tapping at her mind. No, God gave her sound mind and she would fight to keep it.

  After a few encouraging words, Solae returned to her desk and Monica started inputting more than one hundred zip codes to get the demographics on which households would be prospective online students. At noon, she mouthed to Solae, who was on the phone, “I’m going to lunch.”

  In the kitchen, she warmed leftovers from Sunday’s dinner she had with Tyson. She missed his presence now. Of all the days for him to be away, it had to be the day after God saved them. She hadn’t realized she was smiling until Solae snuck up on her.

  “It’s good to see you relaxed and happy. You and Ty make a cute couple.”

  “Thank you and yes, I am happy.” She giggled. “After seeing how Hershel adores you, I didn’t think I would ever find a man who looked at me like that.” She paused, ashamed of what she was about to confess. “To be honest, I was kind of a little jealous of you.”

  “Me?” Solae frowned and chuckled.

  “I know it was silly, but what woman wouldn’t be envious when she sees a woman with a perfect life: three beautiful children and a gorgeous husband.”

  Solae retrieved her lunch sack from the fridge, unzipped the cover, and exhaled. “We have to work hard not to be jealous of what someone else has, especially a sister in Christ, when we don’t know their testimony. God is the giver of gifts if we ask for them.”

  Didn’t God say something like that to her? She eyed her friend scrutinizing the contents. “What’s wrong? Isn’t that your lunch?”

  “Oh, it’s mine all right. My children seem to get a kick out of fixing Mommy lunch, so I eat what they prepare—or try, even if they smear two inches of peanut butter with a trace of jelly on a piece of bread. It’s the thought that counts, right?” Solae grinned. “Ready to pray?”

  “I’ve been waiting on you.” She bowed her head.

  “Lord, in the name of Jesus, thank You for my dear sister’s salvation and this food my children prepared with sweet hearts. Please sanctify and remove all impurities, especially if they didn’t wash their hands…”

  Opening one eye, Monica looked at her with amusement, then closed it again.

  “And please let us be mindful of those who are hungry and bless them in Jesus’s name.”

  “Amen,” they said in unison.

  While Monica dug into her Caesar salad, Solae got up and washed her apple. Sitting again, she unwrapped her sandwich. One slice was wheat, the other was white. They both snickered. “I’ve got to love them.”

  After biting into the cookie dough-thick sandwich, Solae washed it down immediately with long sips from a kids-size juice box. “Ah. Now, what you see with me is the result of Jesus taking the wheel, or the lead, in our lives. I couldn’t have children, which had been a deal breaker in my relationships, even with Hershel. I loved that man so much, but I ended it before he did.” Her eyes watered and she blinked. “It doesn’t appear your episodes are enough to make Tyson walk away.”

  “Wait a minute. Those aren’t your children?” Monica’s mouth dropped open.

  Solae lifted her chin. “I didn’t birth any of them, but they are my children. I love them, care for them, and I’m their mother. The boys are from Hershel’s first marriage and little Hershey, I adopted her after Hershel and I broke up, but I think that little girl brought us back together. She is a daddy’s girl and a typical little sister.” She scrunched up her nose at the sandwich before taking another bite. “So the perfection you see is God’s handiwork.”

  “Wow,” Monica said in disbelief. “Maybe Tyson and I can survive an office romance and the attacks.”

  “Yep.” She wrapped up the sandwich and threw it in the trashcan. “Girl, I tried, but one box of juice won’t cut it and I can only drink so much water with one sandwich.” She walked to the freezer and retrieved a frozen entree, then twirled around, grinning. “Backup.”

  They laughed and filled the rest of their lunch hour taking about the scriptures. By the time Monica left for home, Tyson hadn’t returned to the office. He texted her twice with scriptures and said he was thinking about her. With a heart of inspiration, she cruised home with praise in her heart.

  #

  When it came to dating, Tyson had upped Reggie. For weeks, he enjoyed seeing Monica seven days a week, five at work, dinners or movies on Saturdays, and church on Sundays. Tracee and Reggie were still doing the once or twice a month visit thing.

  Taking advantage of an early warm spring day, Tyson coaxed her to stroll to a nearby restaurant. The nice weather had even enticed children to play in the park.

  Despite the lunch crowd at Randell’s, the couple was able to snag a table. They placed their orders for salads and sandwiches. While waiting, Tyson linked his fingers through hers and stared. It was a flirtatious game they played to guess what the other was thinking.

  He wondered if Monica could see his love reflected in his eyes. Just in case, Tyson couldn’t withhold his feelings any longer. “I know it’s not the romantic thing to say—”

  She squeezed his hand. “Tyson Graham, you’ve been the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”

  He grinned as their orders were delivered to their table. Once they were alone again, he continued, “Even when I want to profess my love over a Caesar salad?”

  “You haven’t said it yet,” she softly challenged and lifted an eyebrow. Her expression was blank, making him wonder if his impatience was a bad move.

  Leaning closer, he whispered, “I love you.”

  Her reaction threw him off. Her eyes watered, her mouth dropped and she patted her chest. Her movements seemed well coordinated as she screamed her excitement, startling him and a few customers at tables close by. She placed her hands on both sides of his jaw and coaxed him closer. “I love you too,” she said softly, nibbling on his lips.

  Oh no, she wasn’t about to outdo him, so Tyson shouted, “Yes,” pumping his fist in the air before paying her back with a hard kiss. Beaming with happiness, their appetite wavered and they asked for to-go boxes.

  On the stroll back, Tyson took her hand. “Did I tell you how incredibly beautiful you look today?”

  “As a matter of fact, you didn’t.”

  Snickering, he scanned
her attire: a short powder blue waist jacket, black pants, which stopped at her ankles, and stacked heels. Yep, she was perfect for him. As a tease, he made an imaginary zipper motion across his mouth.

  “Say it,” she taunted, tugging on his hands, then she began to walk backward.

  He shook his head, holding in his laughter.

  “Say it,” she repeated, feigning a scowl, which was cute on her.

  Voices ahead made Tyson break eye contact. When he spotted some teenagers jumping rope, he concocted his own challenge. He grabbed the love of his life around her waist. She screamed and he teased, “Prove you’re the jump rope queen.” He pointed to the girls.

  “Oh, so you want to talk trash,” she said after glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t want to interrupt their game.”

  “It will be worth it.” Tyson steered her toward the group. “Excuse me, ladies. My girlfriend here says she can jump rope. I don’t believe her. Can you give her a try?”

  They looked Monica up and down. “But she has on heels.”

  “When you start wearing them, you’ll be surprised what you can do in them,” she advised, slapping her purse against Tyson’s chest.

  They seemed doubtful, but the tallest girl started to twirl the ropes in both their hands. He folded his arms, watching her body sway with the rhythm. Seconds later, she jumped in and moved with such finesse, she gave him a glimpse of her dominance in high school and college. The girls increased the twirls, and Monica seemed to tap dance effortlessly, then jumped out, ending her performance. Tyson clapped, along with other spectators who had stopped to watch.

  With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Monica sashayed up to him, dusting off her hands. “Your turn.”

  Throwing his head back, he snorted. “I don’t think so, Miss Show Off. I can’t come close.”

  Placing a fist on her waist, she tapped her shoe. “I know,” she boasted. “Show me what you’ve got, Graham.”

  He wasn’t a man to back down from a dare. The last time he jumped rope was in college when he boxed for a few years, then he gave it up for football. Yet, he couldn’t resist taking the bait. “Hold your purse.” He handed over the bag too. “Give me the easy stuff—please,” he said to the girls who had been watching their exchange with interest as he stood in the middle and waited.

  Giggling, they gave him a single twirl and he jumped, more like hopping from foot to foot. He didn’t make it to ten before his shoe got tangled under the rope.

  As he lifted his hands up in defeat, he thanked the girls while Monica snapped pictures with her smartphone. He tried to block more shots. “If you show anyone—”

  “Relax. I’ll only blackmail you when necessary. Besides, a couple of people over there were taping it to upload on YouTube.” She giggled.

  “I’ll always love you.” He reassured her, enjoying her playful side.

  Slipping her arm through his, she leaned her head on his arm and they finished their walk to the office. “Note to Mr. Graham, the next time you tell me you love me, I want a candlelight dinner.”

  “Message received.” He kissed her hair, looking forward to the weekend for him to do just that.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Tyson told me he loved me!” Monica screamed into the phone, waking Veronica from her beauty rest late Saturday night. Having just returned from a romantic dinner with Tyson, she was too keyed up to sleep. This was her perfect life.

  “Took him long enough,” she stated as if she wasn’t surprised, then yawned.

  “Actually, he told me yesterday over lunch, but it didn’t count until tonight. It was so romantic…”

  “Hold your excitement. If you want me to go to church tomorrow with you, then I need all eight hours of my beauty rest.”

  “Right. Bye, girl.” Monica didn’t have to be threatened her twice. She had tried for weeks to get her friend to visit, so she wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

  “Wait,” Veronica yelled. “Congratulations, I’m happy for you.” Click.

  To match the warm-and-fuzzy feeling in her heart, Monica strolled into her bedroom and turned on the gas flames in her fireplace. Cuddling up in her robe, she closed her eyes and relived the moments.

  Exactly four hours earlier, Tyson had showed up with a single red rose and a limo parked outside her door. It was a cliché, but so were romance novels and she couldn’t get enough of those as a teenager. At his request, she had worn the gown she had on at the ball. He gazed at her with such awe as if it was the first time she had seen her in it.

  They dined at a five-star restaurant by candlelight. Reaching across the white linen tablecloth, he held her hands. “At times I’ve been told I have a habit of not thinking things through, like when I told you I loved you yesterday. I still do today and will tomorrow. I want you to remember that.” His eyes sparkled.

  Bowing her head, she gathered her thoughts, before meeting his eyes again. “I think our chance meeting on the highway was our road to Damascus. Somehow that chain of events led me to you and Christ. To know you love me despite knowing the worst of me is a special kind of love.” She blinked to keep the tears at bay.

  “Hey, you act like I don’t have faults.” He smirked. “I think you’ve been privy to my judgment calls too.”

  Their evening was unrushed as they ate and shared dessert. Afterward, they relaxed as the limo driver gave them a tour of their city, which Monica saw very little of. She and Tyson were too busy whispering their words of love.

  Reluctantly, their date ended at her door with a short kiss and a long hug. With those memories, she got up, turned off the gas flames, and climbed in bed after saying her prayers of thanks for everything and everyone in her life. Then she surrendered to sweet dreams.

  The next day as Veronica had promised, she arrived at church late and had an excuse to leave before Pastor Reed finished his sermon, “Treasures Won’t Last Down Here,” Matthew 6:19.

  Monica didn’t hide her disappointment. She wanted her friend to experience firsthand this spiritual strength. They had shared so much in life.

  Solae reached over Tyson and whispered comforting words, “Some people come to Christ willingly. Others come as a last resort. We’ll keep praying she comes either way.”

  “Okay,” she mouthed while Tyson squeezed her hand. One thing she had learned over the past weeks was that prayers did change things. Maybe her best friend was next to make a change.

  The following Saturday afternoon, she and Tyson attended a matinee at the St. Louis Black Rep. “I think it’s time we meet each other’s parents,” he said casually.

  Monica gave him a side glance as they strolled hand in hand back to his SUV. “And you just came up with this idea while you were supposed to be enjoying Sunset Baby?”

  The tenderness in his eyes made her heart flutter. “When I’m with you, I’ve learned how to multitask.” He paused. “I can profess my love and kiss you at the same time.” He beamed before giving her a demonstration.

  She giggled, gripping his coat collar. “So are we going to flip a coin to see whose parents we visit first?”

  Tyson shook his head. “Nope, my mother and sisters have demanded to meet you since I lost my appetite at the dinner table—well, sort of.” Turning her around, he helped her inside his vehicle.

  While she buckled up, she couldn’t help but wonder how much Tyson told them about her. “Do they know about my attacks?”

  He didn’t mask the guilt on his face. “I’m sorry, babe,” he confessed and her heart sunk.

  She hadn’t experienced anything in weeks. Prayer was definitely working.

  “I discussed it with them when you were first hired. If I knew I was going to fall in love with you, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “It’s okay.” She shrugged. “You couldn’t resist me.”

  His nostrils flared. “You have no idea how right you are.”

  “So when would you like me to meet them?” She relaxed against the head rest.

  “Now.”r />
  “Now!!!!” She sprang forward. She couldn’t form her thoughts fast enough. “Tyson Graham, you could have prepared me. I could have gotten my hair and nails done, bought a new sweater…”

  “Babe, you look perfect without trying, but if it will make you feel any better, they don’t know either. It’s a surprise for all of you.” He grinned and she rolled her eyes.

  Men are so clueless, she thought and glanced out the window as he called his mother. She snickered, hearing a piercing scream through Tyson’s earpiece.

  “Serves you right,” she mumbled loud enough for him to hear, and folded her arms. When he disconnected the call, she laughed out loud.

  By the time they made it to his parents’ home, his sisters had arrived minutes before them and his mother had leftovers warming in the oven. She was amazed how they dropped everything for Tyson.

  Despite knowing her secret, the Grahams embraced her without batting an eye and never hinted she wasn’t good enough for their brother and son.

  When they were ushered to the dining room, the food was blessed and dinner was served. Monica was amused hearing Tyson’s childhood stories he hadn’t shared with her yet. Before leaving, his younger sister, Gail, pulled her to the side. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” she asked, perplexed.

  “My big brother is stubborn. Once he makes rules, he doesn’t break them. But when he met you, something told me you were going to change his heart. We’re all convinced true love brought you two together.”

  “Amen,” she whispered as they exchanged goodbye hugs.

  #

  “So your parents know nothing about me?” Tyson couldn’t believe his ears the following week, watching Monica nod an affirmative from the passenger seat in his SUV. They had been officially dating six weeks. “Should I be hurt or upset by this revelation?” At least his family suspected she would hold a special place in his heart.

  Her lips curled into a smile and she squeezed his hand. “Scared? Don’t be. My mother knows I’ve been going out. If she suspected I was dating exclusively, she would hound me about getting married and having children. I didn’t want that pressure on our relationship.”

 

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