by Pat Simmons
Some Christmas, I wanted to introduce Mackenzie to my family. My holiday plans to spend the day with the woman I loved dwindled down to my new routine of me picking her up at church and she enjoyed the pampering treatment.
I felt like I was being forced to hand over her gift, and then sending her on her way. Something was wrong with that picture. Frustrated, I pounded the bathroom counter with my fist. That’s when I nicked my chin.
Could the day get any worse? Yep, it did. Our morning emails usually pacified me until I could see her smiling face and inhale her perfume. After exchanging a scripture, we switched to instant messaging. Taking a deep breath, I coaxed myself: try to be a man who can compromise.
What would you like to do today after service, baby?
Mackenzie: Noel, I’m sorry. My father and I always spend this holiday together.
No exceptions?
Mackenzie: I love you.
Then act like it, woman, instead of ducking the question, I held back that demand. I love you, too. Be ready for church in an hour.
I signed off without waiting for a response.
I donned another one of my custom-tailored suits. In the hall, I tugged my coat off the hanger and then planted my hat on my head. After snatching Mackenzie’s gift bag off the living room table, I left.
It’s not about me, I chanted. It’s about celebrating Christ first and my wants second. Make that third. She just put me on the back burner.
On the drive to her house, I kept telling myself I was okay with her plans. Once I arrived, I had barely left my fingerprints on Mackenzie’s doorknocker when she opened the door, smiling.
Mackenzie’s trademark curls lay straight past her shoulders. Wow. Coincidently, she wore a brown pinstripe dress, or maybe it was a coat. Suede ankle boots showed off her legs. A large brown hat adorned her head. The sight of her almost brought me to my knees.
“Oh, my God, help me,” I couldn’t contain my thoughts as I towered over her, cataloging her new look.
“It’s that bad?” She panicked.
I couldn’t answer.
“You hate it, don’t you? I stayed up all night after service…I thought you would like it…” Her hand covered her lips to prevent me from understanding anything else.
“Mackenzie, you have no idea how much power you have over me. Your hair, where’s all the curls?” I felt like a fool for being an idiot.
“Don’t you like it?”
Reaching out, I finger-combed the straight, soft strands. “What’s not to like on you? Those curls are definitely you and only you, but this woman before me is God’s beauty manifested.”
“Good answer.” She stepped into my arms. I didn’t want to let her to go—period—to Chicago or to church. Kisses and loving her didn’t give me a right to make demands, but God help me.
I was breaths away from getting on one knee. And say what? Marriage, babies, and retirement? Despite my feelings, we were still in the exploration stage. Yeah, right. You’ve already confessed your love in less than thirty days of meetings her, I thought.
Then Mackenzie worked her magic. She winked. Her lashes were longer—sassy. Her smile beamed—alluring. She shook her hair, flaunting her long mane that swished from side to side. She knew what she was doing and kept enticing me anyway. I stepped back to keep my insanity, and I still hadn’t apologized to her father.
She smirked, lifting a silky brow. “You look very handsome. I like your hat.”
I reached to remove my Dion Saunders fashion statement, having forgotten my manners and all common sense after Mackenzie opened the door.
“No, don’t.” She touched my sleeve. “It emphasizes the mysterious thoughts and looks of a man who loves me.” She innocently stroked my clean-shaven cheeks and chin.
The woman was setting me on fire as I tried to regulate my breathing. Lord, You can intervene at any time because Mackenzie was making it hard to resist, I silently pleaded. “You are seriously asking for some carnal trouble today. You’re teasing me and you’re leaving me. That’s a bad combination. I’m not a toy so don’t wind me up. Ready to go?”
“Noel, when I come back, I’m making you my number one priority, behind God of course.”
“Well, Merry Christmas, Hallelujah. And that’s what I’m talking about.”
I stepped inside as she walked to a hall closet. The door was the size of a small pantry. I blinked to scan my surroundings. The room looked like something out of the Orient. There were a lot of browns—couch, toss pillows, walls. Besides the couch, there were enough chairs for a small gathering.
After twirling a cape off a hanger, Mackenzie danced on her toes to rummage through a top shelf. The hunt over, she struggled with a shopping bag brimming with gifts. Stepping behind her, I easily retrieved it for her. Thanking me, she looked inside the bag and wiggled out a small box and handed it to me.
“Mackenzie,” I said, gritting my teeth. How could a woman balance beautiful and fascinating with hardheadedness?
“Noel,” she stopped and held up her hand. “My small gifts are tokens to let you know I’m thinking about you. I couldn’t pass this up. While window shopping in the mall, I passed Evelyn and Crabtree. Noel was displayed on the shelves so I backtracked. The sales woman said the cologne was a way to celebrate the reason for the season, ‘After all, Noel does have a biblical significance,’ she had said.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “My name isn’t in the Bible.”
Mackenzie nodded. “I know. I tried to tell her it’s Noah. She said, ‘Same thing,’ and continued to ring up my purchase. Anyway, it reminded me of you. I bought it to remind you of me.”
God what have you given me? No wonder Adam ate the fruit Eve offered. Instead of fruit, Mackenzie held the bag of potpourri under my nose. I inhaled and exhaled without losing eye contact. If I started on her lips, I wouldn’t be able to finish.
Clearing my throat, I picked up her bag and grabbed her hand. “C’mon, woman, a minute longer and we’re going to need a chaperone. Speaking of chaperone, where’s your father? I want to apologize for the other night.”
“I’ve already spoken to him and apologized for you.”
“Thank you, but…I can speak for myself and I will. Is he home?”
“No.”
***
Inside my car, I presented Mackenzie’s gift bag. “Merry Christmas.”
She sucked in her breath and her eyes widened as she unwrapped her present. Meticulously, she fingered the gloves.
Mackenzie’s lips moved, but I couldn’t read them. Reaching out, my right hand lifted her chin. “You have to look at me.”
Her eyes glistened. “I buy the best shoes, leather handbags, and stylish durable clothes, but I’ve never invested in a good pair of gloves because I usually lose them before the end of the season.” She paused. “Noel, I’ll never lose these.”
Thank you. “I love you, and I’ll never repeat those words to another woman.”
CHAPTER 20
The choir marched into the sanctuary with their purple robes swaying. According to the overhead projector they sang “The Hallelujah Chorus.” Everyone was standing, including me. I didn’t need to know the beat to clap my hands or move my feet.
Midway through the praise portion of the service, I glanced back and surprisingly made eye contact with my parents. After my initial shock of seeing them there instead of attending their home church, I nodded. My dad tilted his head in acknowledgment as Momma waved frantically as if I didn’t see her.
As the choir finished, I did another head check and spotted Pierce a few pews behind my parents, even Caleb had sneaked in. My brothers never looked my way, but Pierce seemed captivated with the interpreters. Ah, yes Mackenzie had that affect.
The jubilation continued as Pastor Coleman began his sermon “Jesus Revealed.” “It’s time to open our gifts,” Mackenzie interpreted.
“Okay.” Keisha and Daphne, who wore matching dresses, signed as they tore into presents Mackenzie gave them. I d
on’t know what she gave them, but Mrs. Campbell warned her daughters to wait until they were home before opening them.
As far as the sisters were concerned, Pastor Coleman gave them permission. They had practically shredded the wrappings off when their mother reached over and snatched both presents from them. Pouting, they made a dramatic production of folding their arms as Pastor Coleman continued.
“Not a tangible gift you got from under the tree. Open the gifts God gave you, and He doesn’t need a holiday to give us gifts. After unwrapping Grace, we discover Mercy. Joy escaped and danced behind Peace. Salvation and Power stood at attention before Healing and Deliverance was uncovered. Somehow Love seemed to be a small package, but once opened, it exploded, covering all the other gifts.”
The crowd was riveted as he quoted scriptures verbatim to back up his hour long sermon. Afterwards, he stretched out his hand, offering an invitation. “There is never any reason for you to leave this church hungry. There’s more food on the table from where this morsel came, and you know what?” he waited for us to respond.
“There are more gifts, too. If you want your presents, ask. Daddy, I want the box labeled Peace, I need two packages of Power. Need Joy? Yeah, it looks like that’s here, too. C’mon. Today is a good day to ask. Repent first, confessing your sins, not to me, but to the Lord Jesus. Tell Him you’re sorry.
“Ask Him for help. Once you’ve made up your mind, come for prayer. If you want to get rid of your filthy garments, let God wash your sins away in Jesus’ Name. He offers a full-service makeover. He will wash, dry, press, and dress you Himself. Come on now. There’s no sense in letting these gifts go to waste.”
In their Sunday best, many came. God had a special message for me: reconcile whatever differences Valerie had with me. After the benediction, I spied Valerie as she left her Deaf Ministry post. Inhaling a heavy dose of air, I readied myself for the inevitable.
This talk could be quick and easy or drawn out and difficult. Lord, you decide, I prayed, locating Valerie on the other side. I wasn’t far away when my mother bulldozed her way through the aisles, coming toward me.
I had actually forgotten about Mackenzie when she tapped me on the shoulder.
“You ready to go?” she signed and covered her ears.
Funny, I hadn’t noticed, I taunted.
When she reached out to inflict a harmless punch, my hand was quicker and I grabbed her fist and gently squeezed it. “Seriously, my family is here. I want you to meet them.” My expression told her it wasn’t a request.
First, I needed to tell Mackenzie what I had planned to do. “Listen, baby, I need to confess. It’s about the conversation you had with Valerie.”
“Do we have to talk about that now? The one you had no business interpreting.”
Clearly, this wasn’t a good time for Mackenzie, and definitely not what I had planned to do on Christmas.
“She truly believes God sent me for her. You and I knew from day one that was not the case. I don’t think she believed you. I’ve got to talk to her. Hopefully she’ll believe me.”
Opening her mouth, she folded her arms then changed her mind as she lifted her arms. “Noel, I should be angry with you for eavesdropping. I don’t care if you can’t hear. That was a private conversation. However, the air needs to be clear before my friendship and fellowship with Valerie can move on…”
Mackenzie paused, thinking. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. If she found out you knew what she was saying, she may go ballistic from embarrassment. She doesn’t take rejection too good. Today’s definitely not a good day.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission. I have to talk to her in order to be obedient to God.”
“I understand, Noel.” She twisted her mouth in torment. She lifted her fingers to comb through her curls. She momentarily appeared shocked when she realized they no longer existed, she patted her head instead. “Will you wait for me and we can do this together?”
“I don’t know. Personally, I’m ready to get this out the way. I’ve tolerated her unjustified attitude long enough.”
“She doesn’t know you know. Let me talk to her first. Promise me, Noel.”
Reasoning that I could use the buffer and Mackenzie would only be gone a few days, I agreed.
“The service was inspiring.” My mother appeared out of nowhere.
“Noel’s inspiration not from the message,” Caleb gibed in broken American Sign Language. I got tired of reminding him that English Sign Language was much easier, but what do I know? I’m only his deaf older brother.
My dad and Pierce were exchanging Christmas greetings as they made their way to us. Linking my fingers with Mackenzie’s, I pulled her closer. “Mom, Dad, Pierce, and Caleb, this is Mackenzie.” I couldn’t help from worshiping the woman, and I wanted my family to see it.
“Merry Christmas,” she greeted, shaking their hands one by one. That wasn’t good enough for my mother as she gathered Mackenzie in a hug.
“Dad, I’m glad to see you all, but why are you here instead of at your church on Christmas?”
Momma shrugged. “Since Mackenzie is coming over after church, I thought it would be nice for us to fellowship with you two beforehand.” She peered at Caleb. “I’m glad your brother decided to join us.”
My mother proceeded to bombard Mackenzie with question after question about our relationship. I tried to intervene before she asked Mackenzie what high school she attended—a ridiculous “St. Louis thing” to define the status of a person. I tried to tell Momma that Mackenzie wasn’t coming, but Momma shooed me away.
Then Mackenzie broke the disappointing news. My mother’s face was crestfallen. Pierce lifted a brow in scrutiny, and my dad nodded his understanding after Mackenzie explained she had to pack.
While all the activity was centered on Mackenzie, Caleb gave me the oddest expressions, frowning and gritting his teeth. I shoved Caleb aside. “What’s your problem?” I signed with my back to Mackenzie, then I realized I would get a better answer asking instead of signing.
My nostrils flared as I grimaced in irritation. “Why the faces, man?” I sat against a pew with my arms folded, waiting for his response.
“Mom, Dad, and Pierce were being polite. You’d better be glad you can’t hear. She has a soft voice, but it’s whiny and irritating. If a woman’s voice doesn’t attract me, then nothing else will because regardless of her physical assets, she would drive me crazy during sex.”
I prayed to God that nobody heard what my brother was saying especially in church. “Careful, Caleb, that’s my woman you’re talking about.”
“Whatever,” he signed back with perfection as I broke up the family conference, to take Mackenzie home.
CHAPTER 21
Traditions, Mackenzie had said. I twisted my lips mockingly. Let me tell you about my holiday traditions, Mackenzie, I fumed to myself.
When I was younger, my family believed in Santa Claus. Not the jolly old guy, but the sky is the limit credit card guy. Afterwards, Momma and Dad had to work overtime for months just to get the balance down for the following Christmas spree.
Of course, my brothers and I never knew any of that as we indulged in our heart’s desire for every requested item under a seven-foot tree.
After we embraced the Lord, my dad instituted new guidelines. If we spent one hundred dollars on anybody, God had to get one-hundred and one dollars. It took a while for us to adjust to the new rules, but eventually, we did. Traditions.
Momma made contributions to the Sickle Cell Disease Foundation of America for Pierce, United Negro College Fund for Caleb and the National Black Deaf Advocates for me. Every year, a different homeless shelter received a check in my dad’s name. Traditions.
After depositing sizeable portions of turkey, dressing, homemade rolls, potato salad, mustard greens, and sweet potato pie into our mouths, our stomachs rebuked further abuse.
To lose a calorie or two, the men cleaned up after Momma’s Southern cooking feast before headi
ng to the family room. Claiming a spot, we unbuckled our belts and kicked off our shoes. We were ready as Dad pointed the remote toward the TV.
Most programs were broadcast in closed-caption, and sometimes it was tradition that the station hadn’t reset the closed-caption after a local commercial aired. I knew the routine. It happened at least a couple of times during the month.
Using my Blackberry, I retrieved a previous e-mail to a television station, changed the date, and forwarded it. If I was lucky, the service would be turned on before the program or in this case, the football game, ended.
Finally, the close-caption was activated an hour into the first game. But then the letters were too small. The bigger the screen, the more readable the sentences, and Dad had a big plasma screen TV that wasn’t working, but was still under warranty. Repairs weren’t available until after the holiday, so I lip-read as much as I could.
Concentrating on the plays, we leaned off our seats. My heart pumped in anticipation with three minutes left in the second game. The quarterback scrambled, looking for an open receiver before taking off to score the touchdown from the fifteenth yard line.
He passed the twelfth, the tenth, the fifth… Momma intercepted the play, blocking our view with the universal time-out sign. We threw up our arms, yelling. Tradition. She did it every year for attention.
“You guys ready for dessert?”
“No!” we said. When she moved, a commercial was airing.
Later that night, Pierce nudged me as I dozed on the sofa. “Hey, got a minute?” I nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” He glanced at my dad and Caleb. “Alone. How about a cup of coffee and a slice of pecan pie, and I’ll meet you down the hall?”
Standing, I headed down the hall to one of our old bedrooms that Momma had converted into an anything room—sewing, library, home office, and God knows what else.