Destination Wedding

by Jacqueline J. Holness

  “Are you serious? She just keeps surprising me! And for the better, too!” Senalda said. “Maybe if things keep going the way they are going with Wendell, I can be the second to get married.”

  “Everything is a competition with you,” Jarena said, shaking her head.

  Senalda noticed then that Kailen had fallen asleep.

  “I’m going to put her in the guest room,” she said.

  “Girl, that’s my cue, too,” Jarena said, standing up. “Since Mimi isn’t here and you’ve got Kailen, I’m going to head home. I’ve got a paper due on Monday, and I have church in the morning, so I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “So any luck on selling your business?” Senalda inquired.

  “Funny you’re asking me that. I think I have someone finally, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “I thought ministers didn’t believe in jinxes,” Senalda said with a laugh.

  “I don’t, but you know what I mean.”

  “I hope it goes through,” Senalda said. “Okay, next time we meet, we’re going to devote a whole meeting to YOUR love life because it’s been over a year, and you haven’t even been a date… unless there is something you’re not telling us.”

  For a moment, Senalda wondered if Jarena had a secret dating relationship of some sort. Over the course of their friendship, Senalda noticed her friend had a curious habit of keeping secrets, as if she wanted to present a glossed-over image of herself like she did with her clients. But she dismissed the thought, figuring Jarena couldn’t have kept a secret like that, with everything else going on in her life.

  “Girl, bye,” Jarena said as she opened Senalda’s front door and hurried to her car.

  “You can’t marry Jesus,” Senalda hollered, temporarily forgetting she had a sleeping child nearby.

  CHAPTER 18

  May

  Destination Wedding Meeting #17

  FOR THEIR MAY MEETING, the women thought it was time to see how their men interacted with everyone else. Although Jarena would be the only uncoupled one, she assured them she would be alright. The Atlanta Jazz Festival, a must-do event for Black Atlanta held every Memorial Day weekend, was the perfect opportunity for this meeting. The Brannons opted to supply the meat and grill for the group at Piedmont Park, where the festival was held. They also brought a tent, lawn chairs, and blankets. Wendell was off of work for the entire weekend, so he made the side dishes. Senalda contributed desserts from Manolo’s, now her favorite Puerto Rican spot in Atlanta. Mimi and Jarena provided the paper supplies, drinks, and coolers.

  The weather was perfect. The sun was high in a cloudless blue sky so serene that any surprises that could transpire that day would be softened by its calming influence. A gentle breeze supplied natural air conditioning. Black people from all corners of metro Atlanta had swarmed to the park, collectively kickin’ back and reveling in the food, music, and overall atmosphere.

  Whitney, Richie and the twins arrived first. They worked side by side to set up their area and grill the meat while minding the twins, getting along without sarcastic comments and misunderstanding. Hand in hand, the Goodmans arrived next. Instead of her usual bohemian style, Mimi wore a strapless baby-blue jumper with simple gold sandals. Her locs, which were usually here, there, and everywhere, were assembled in a large bun at the nape of her neck.

  She actually looks presentable! “Over here,” Whitney shouted, waving wildly at them.

  Richie turned around just as Ian got close.

  “Hey, Richie,” Ian said.

  “Ian, man, what are you doing here?” Richie said, his face contorting in surprised recognition.

  “Richie, this is Mimi’s hubby Ian,” Whitney explained. “I kept forgetting to ask if the two of you know each other. Obviously you do.”

  “Oh, Mimi…” Richie said, before pausing and starting another statement. “Small world,” he said instead.

  “Hey man, if you need help on the grill, let me know,” Ian said.

  “Me and the wifey have got it right now, but thanks,” he said, forcefully grabbing Whitney to him with his free hand while his other hand held tongs in the air. Mimi’s phone rang then, dissipating the awkward tension.

  “Hey Jarena,” Mimi said. “Okay, I’ma get Ian and Richie to help you.”

  “Y’all,” she said to the men. “Jarena has drinks and a cooler in her trunk, but she needs help gettin’ it all ova here.”

  “Where is she parked?” Ian asked.

  “She’s ova there near Grady High School,” Mimi said, pointing to the school across the street from the park.

  As the men walked away, Senalda and Wendell made their way to the site.

  “Hello ladies, remember Wendell?” Senalda said, pointing to the thickset man beside her.

  “So glad to be seein’ y’all again,” he said a little too loudly. “Purrrty has told me all about you.” He put his cooler down on the grass, charged over to Mimi and Whitney, and hugged them in a tight grip.

  “Purrrty?” Whitney said, her eyebrows wrinkling as Wendell released them. She smoothed her white blouse and shorts.

  “He means ‘pretty,’” Senalda said with nervous laughter.

  “That’s sooo sweet!” Mimi said.

  “So where is your husband?” Senalda asked Mimi.

  Jarena, Richie, and Ian walked up then.

  “Here he is,” Richie said, hitting Ian on the back with so much power, he was thrust forward.

  Thirty minutes later, the crew of friends were eating, drinking, and enjoying the day. Even amongst her friends, Jarena wondered what Barry was doing. He told her he was probably going home for the holiday weekend. She thought about texting him but decided to leave him alone with his family. As if she had conjured him up, she heard a voice that sounded like his getting closer to her group.

  “Naomi,” the voice said, “I see some vacant spots over there nearby the stage.”

  Barry was right in front of her. With his wife Naomi and their son and daughter. Before she could act like she hadn’t seen him, Mimi’s voice screeched from behind her.

  “Is that Barry Simpson? Jarena, there’s Barry! I tol y’all the jazz festival is Atlanta’s black family reunion!”

  “Oh hey, Barry,” Jarena said, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she felt.

  “How are you, Jarena?” Barry said, not moving from where he stood when he saw her. “This is my wife, Naomi, and Barry Jr. and Amber.”

  In a flash, Jarena assessed the woman Barry had chosen to salve his heart after she rejected his proposal. Her very being made her the type of woman that could cater to man’s wounded ego with her short stature and small waist, hands, and feet. She was a delicate creature that a man could care for and contain. Jarena had grown taller than many boys when she was twelve. Coupled with the independence instilled in by her mother and grandmother, Jarena wasn’t sure she could allow herself to be taken care of physically or emotionally. As if she were twelve, she wanted to shove Naomi to the ground, slap the smile from her face, and scrap with her rival.

  While the encounter between Barry and Jarena was public, something about the way it unfolded made everyone in its vicinity feel like they had encroached upon a private moment. The mingled smell of intimacy, longing, and regret hung heavy in the air as detectable as the mingled smell of hundreds of moving bodies, assorted cookouts dotting the park, and the span of the outdoors.

  “Wow, aine it funny y’all ran into each other after all of these years?” Mimi asked.

  “Yeah,” Barry said, his face oddly blank of any expression. “Well, it was nice seeing you and everyone.”

  Naomi opened her mouth to say something to the group, but Barry ushered his family away before she could get any intelligible words out.

  “Nice meeting all of you,” Jarena called to them as the family traveled in the opposite direction.

  “Is that THE Barry you used to talk about all of the time after we met?” Senalda said.

  “The one and only,” Mimi confirmed. �
�Jarena’s college sweetheart. The only one she’s eva loved.”

  “Looks like the two of you still have some chemistry,” Whitney said. “Too bad he’s a married man.”

  “Yeah, too bad,” Jarena said, trying to make her face look as void of recognition as Barry’s face had. “I guess I can finally stop thinking about him, since he’s married with kids.”

  “You mean to tell me you’ve never looked him up on Facebook or anything?” Senalda asked slyly.

  “Not really,” Jarena said. “I think Incognito is getting ready to get on stage. I’m going to try to get as close as I can. Anyone want to go with me?”

  As Mimi walked with her toward the stage, she said, “You know you’re aine fooling nobody, acting like you haven’t seen him since college. I saw how y’all looked at each other. That’s why I started talking fast, so no one else would see what I saw. But lemme say this, girl. And I learned it the hard way. Don’t keep thinking ’bout a man that’s moved on.”

  “Oh, so now that you have been married for less than six months, you’re giving relationship advice?” Jarena quipped. “Spare me. God will send the right man for me at the right time.”

  “Well, maybe God is trying to tell you something right now,” Mimi said with a laugh, not realizing that a startled Jarena believed her incisive words, meant as a joke, were directly from God.

  CHAPTER 19

  June

  Jarena

  I CAN’T WAIT TO GET to church today, I said to myself a full ten minutes before my alarm clock sounded on Sunday morning. I had a testimony to share, and I couldn’t wait to share it! I had been working on selling my business since November and on Friday, it finally happened. My attorney and broker had been negotiating with Urban PR, a public relations company based in New York, for months, and the deal went through! Urban PR wanted to open an Atlanta office with my clientele to jumpstart their business in the city. I made enough from the sale to keep me comfortable while I finished school and began working full-time as a minister. Plus, I was also excited because I received a check from Hidden United Methodist in the mail that same week since I conducted a three-month youth Bible study at church. The check made me feel like I had officially started my new career, although I was still in seminary.

  The check reminded me of the checks my grandmother received from Redemption Baptist Church. A tall, skinny, dark-skinned man would stop by G-ma’s house at the beginning of the month and hand her an envelope with the church’s name on it. When I was ten, I asked her what was in the envelopes, but she always replied that was “grown folks’ business” and shooed me away. When I was eleven, I just looked in her nightstand drawer where she always put the envelopes and peeked inside. I saw a check from the church. After she passed, the checks started coming to my mother. I asked her about them, but she wouldn’t tell me, either.

  Since I began taking courses to be a certified lay minister at Hidden United Methodist in December, I sat up closer to the front. I could barely contain myself as I took my seat in the second pew today. I managed to get through the prelude, call to worship, invocation, scripture lesson, and prayer hymn. But as soon as the word “testimony” left Pastor Kirby’s lips, I jumped up.

  “I have a testimony, Pastor Kirby,” I said.

  “It must be an awesome testimony, because I couldn’t even get the word out,” Pastor Kirby said with a laugh. “Please share with us, Sister Jarena.”

  I looked at him mostly as I shared, but I turned around a few times to make eye contact with the church.

  “I’m so thankful for my church. I didn’t know that when I came here over a year ago that God had ordained for me to be here. Since I’ve been here, I’ve started taking classes to be a certified lay minister, enrolled in theology school, and last fall I decided to sell my business so I can be in ministry full time. And on Friday, it finally happened. My business has been sold. Now I can fully dedicate myself to be what the Lord wants me to be.”

  “Amens” and applause erupted from the church until a woman dressed in a large black hat and black suit stood up.

  “Does the Lord want you to be a mistress too? Because that is what you are!” the woman yelled.

  Everything stopped. At first I couldn’t see her face because of the netting over her hat. She lifted the netting and fixed her eyes on me. It was Naomi.

  Oh My God.

  “Stop seeing my husband, Jarena,” she said. Her lips quivered, and she swayed like she was about to fall. She grabbed a pew in front of her before continuing loudly. “He was yours in college, but he’s mine now. And we are MARRIED, not boyfriend and girlfriend!”

  Trembling, like an electric shock was running through my body, I just stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to say. An usher ran to the woman’s side and escorted her out through the swinging doors at the back of the church into the vestibule. I escaped through a side door and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Some members followed me and knocked on the door, but I ignored them.

  The scene played out again in my mind as I hid in the bathroom for the rest of the service. In the replay, I rushed up to her and roared to her face, “Barry was never yours because his heart was and always has been mine. He only married you to replace me. You are a rebound wife!” If Naomi wanted a public reckoning, so be it.

  An hour or so later, Pastor Kirby knocked on the door.

  “Jarena, are you in there?”

  I didn’t say anything, wishing I could click my heels like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and be at home. “Yes, Pastor Kirby,” I finally answered.

  “Do you want me to come in there and speak with you, or do you want to come to my office?”

  Neither. I didn’t reply, but I unlocked the door. Although the service was over, most of the congregation was milling around in the hallway, probably waiting to see the mistress minister. I kept my head down as I followed him into his office.

  “Jarena, I don’t even know what to say,” he said after sitting in his chair and gesturing for me to sit down too. “I’ve known you for over a year now, and I know you are a woman of integrity and character, and I’m excited about what you will do for the Lord. But is this woman telling the truth? Are you seeing a married man?”

  I nodded without looking up.

  “I’m so sorry, Pastor Kirby,” I said. “He was someone I dated in college, and we reconnected on Facebook last year. I just can’t seem to stop seeing him. I love him. And he loves me. He wants to divorce his wife and marry me.”

  Pastor Kirby sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’m not discounting your feelings, but I just don’t think that God would lead you into a relationship with a married man. And despite this mess, I still think God has a wonderful ministry for you, but you won’t be able to walk into it until you leave this married man alone. The devil is always trying to sabotage God’s plan. The greater the sabotage, the greater God’s plan. Pray with me right now that you will allow God to end this relationship.”

  Pastor Kirby took my hand and prayed for me. I so wanted to feel repentant, but the only emotion I recognized within me was anger. But I knew the rational thing to do right then was cut off my relationship with Barry. According to God’s law and human law, he was married to Naomi, no matter how it happened.

  While I drove home, Barry blew my phone up, but I didn’t answer his calls. I knew he had heard what happened. But being publicly humiliated was all the incentive I needed to resist him, I thought.

  Two days later, I sent Barry a long Facebook message explaining why I could no longer be in any contact with him. I “unfriended” him once he received the message and blocked his number.

  And then he showed up at my house on Friday night.

  “You left me no choice,” he said as he leaned against my doorframe. Tears shone in his bloodshot eyes. “What am I supposed to do without you in my life?”

  I attempted to shove him out of my door, but I stopped resisting, letting him all the way in. Nothing was said as we rea
cquainted our bodies. Everything I wanted to say I communicated in moans as he kissed me from the tip-top of my Afro to the soles of my feet. During the night we spent together, I silently bargained over and over again with God, telling Him that I would do whatever He wanted me to do if He would only allow Barry to be my husband like he was supposed to be years earlier. I told God that I could not enter the ministry if Barry wasn’t by my side. He was mine first. Why do I have to be alone?

  But by dawn Saturday, I surrendered to God. I sent Barry back to his wife, although he told me that no matter what I decided, he planned on divorcing her.

  • • •

  I didn’t go to church on Sunday, but Pastor Kirby called me to schedule a meeting with him and the church board for the following Sunday after service. I arrived after the service was over and went to the conference room. The board members sat silently around the table as Pastor Kirby spoke.

  “Jarena, while we believe that you have already greatly impacted Hidden United Methodist’s lay ministry even without being officially certified, due to your moral transgressions, we have decided that we no longer need your services in that capacity. Of course, you are free to continue being a member, but we don’t feel comfortable with you being in leadership until you have sufficiently addressed the sin you allowed into your life.”

  I didn’t protest. Instead I thanked them for their wisdom and walked out the door. I knew I would not be returning to the church. God obviously wasn’t leading me to ministry there, I concluded. And now that my business had been sold and I cut off all contact with Barry, I knew that I could clearly hear from God about his next destination for me.

  Destination Wedding Meeting #18

  Senalda and Wendell were nearly finished preparing for the party they were hosting for Mimi and Ian. Senalda had convinced Mimi that her nuptials needed a more official celebration, particularly as it was the first bona fide victory for their Destination Wedding project. She was expecting about fifty people to attend. Wendell had cooked all of the food. She had decorated her expansive backyard and rented some furniture.