by Dwan Abrams
One of the associate ministers led the responsive reading and the congregational hymn followed.
Finally able to sit down, announcements were made and they saw a PowerPoint presentation of the latest missionary trip to Africa. Bria felt inspired. Although she didn’t feel being a missionary was her calling in life, she did want to help underdeveloped, underprivileged countries in any way that she could.
The pastor came out and gave a redemptive message about the power of forgiveness. Bria shouted many “amens,” “preach pastor,” and “hallelujahs.” At the end of the sermon the pastor extended the gift of salvation and opened the church doors to anyone who needed a church home or wanted to accept Christ into their life. Young and old, men and women made their way to the front of the altar. Some were crying, and others were smiling. The congregation clapped and glorified God.
After service Chance offered to take them all out to Sunday brunch.
“I wish that I could,” Bria explained, “but I can’t. Spade said he has a surprise for me after church, so I need to get home.” She made a pouty face.
Nya hugged her, and they were cheek to cheek. “Not a problem,” Nya said in her usual Southern twang so sexy that any man born beneath the Mason-Dixon line couldn’t resist.
They broke apart and looked in each other’s faces. “You take your matron of honor duties seriously.” Bria giggled. “I meant to thank you for e-mailing the guest list to the calligrapher, picking up the invitations when they were ready, and mailing them to the guests.”
“Girl, please. That’s what I do.”
She looked into Nya’s round face and for a split second she saw her as a little girl. A pleasant expression graced her face as she thought about the first time she and Nya met. She and her family had just moved into a subdivision in Stone Mountain, a suburb of Atlanta.
“Bria, come here,” her mom had called to her. “There’s a cute little girl out there who I think you should meet.”
Bria was nervous and didn’t want to do it.
“Don’t be shy. Just go up to her and ask her if she wants to be your friend,” her mom continued.
With her mother spying through the living-room window, Bria skipped to catch up with the brown-skinned, round-faced little girl wearing two pigtails and a plaid dress. Without making eye contact she said, “Do you want to be my friend?”
At the time it never occurred to Bria that Nya could’ve said no. Even though Nya responded favorably, that still did not stop her from occasionally poking fun at Bria about the proposal of friendship.
“Anyway,” Nya said, interrupting Bria’s thoughts, “let’s talk about the grand opening of The Spa Factory in just one more week.”
While an undergrad in college, Bria double majored in international business and marketing because she always wanted to be a businesswoman, a boss. During one of her core courses, she did a marketing analysis for a day spa in the Atlanta Metro area. Her professor was so impressed with her findings and well thought out, detailed business plan that he suggested she implement the plan. She agreed, because she had carefully researched the industry, the trends, the target audience, how to market to them, and so much more. She shared her ideas with her father, a prominent dentist, regarding her business. Her father loved her concept and agreed to help her secure the funding for her business.
After she graduated, she never lost sight of opening the spa. Halfway through graduate school she scouted out locations and found the ideal one. Her dad gave her the green light to proceed. She conducted more research to get the best products and establish relationships with the most credible vendors. When it came time to staff her organization, she immediately hired Nya to be her PR director. Nya had the gift of gab and a way with people that Bria admired. She was also the top sales rep at the company she worked for. She had no doubt Nya would be a good fit for the position.
Bria listened attentively as Nya went on and on about the outfit she was going to wear, the prominent people who were expected to be in attendance, and the media coverage that was guaranteed to make television, radio, and the local papers. When Nya finished rambling about the spa, she told Bria, “Have fun with Spade. Love you, girl.”
Chance patted Bria on top of her head like a dog. “Run along,” he teased.
She rolled her light brown eyes at him. “You’re so not funny,” she smirked.
He reached out and embraced her, patting her hard on the back like he was trying to burp a baby. “Be good.”
“Ugh.” She pressed against his five-month-pregnant-looking stomach. As a chef she figured that must be a part of his job description. How could anyone trust a skinny chef? she reasoned. She didn’t think Chance was a sloppy kind of fat; he was more like the loveable, huggable teddy bear-type of guy. Not the type of guy she’d ever be interested in, but that didn’t matter. He was Nya’s man, and if Nya liked it, Bria loved it. “I’ll call you.” She directed her comment toward Nya and waved good-bye as she made her way to the Honda Accord her parents had given her the day she graduated from college with honors.
As soon as she entered her house she took off her shoes and trekked barefoot across the polished hardwood floors. Something about walking barefoot felt liberating to her.
She went upstairs into her bedroom and changed into a fitted baby tee, tight jeans, and flat thong sandals. She slicked her hair back into a long, flowing ponytail and touched up her makeup. Fifteen minutes later Spade rang her doorbell.
“Let me grab my purse and turn on the alarm,” she told him after answering the door.
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward him. “Not before I get a kiss.”
She slightly tilted her head to the left and kissed him.
“I’ll wait for you at the car.”
Her purse was waiting for her to pick it up on a bar stool in front of the island. She punched in her alarm code and locked the door behind her.
Spade opened the passenger door for her, and they drove toward Stone Mountain. She thought they were going to have brunch at one of her favorite spots, the Marriott Evergreen Hotel, but they didn’t go that way. Unable to take the suspense any longer, she said, “Please tell me where we’re going.”
Without taking his eyes off the road he said, “We’re almost there.”
Bria placed her hands in her lap and fiddled with her fingers. He pulled off the interstate onto a trail leading to a wooded area. She couldn’t begin to imagine where they were going or what they were about to do. She wasn’t the outdoorsy-type, and Spade knew that. What was he up to? The suspense was eating away at her like a flesh-eating disease.
The sound of the tires crushing the gravel and woodchips underneath let her know they were in the boonies. She cut her eyes at him as Spade continued to follow the trail and stopped just before pulling up to a white wooden house.
“Where are we?” She tried not to sound annoyed.
He turned off the ignition. “You’ll see. Come on.”
They got out, and the rocks underneath Bria’s feet made walking the trail leading to the house bumpy. She appreciated Spade holding her hand to help her keep her balance.
A blond guy came out and greeted them. Extending his hand he said, “You must be Spade.”
Spade shook his hand and introduced Bria. “This is my fiancée.”
“Terrific.” Creases lined the guy’s forehead. “Have either of you ever been up in a hot air balloon before?”
“A hot air balloon?” Bria repeated. Had Spade lost his mind? Why would he think she had any interest in riding in a hot air balloon? What if they got stuck in a tree? What if the heat thingy went out?
“No, we haven’t,” Spade told the guy. He wrapped his arm around Bria’s shoulder. “Surprise!” He leaned over and kissed her on the temple.
She wanted to protest, but Spade looked so eager to do this. She just couldn’t be Debbie Downer.
“You’re in for an adventure,” the guy said.
“I’ll bet,” Bria mumbled under her
breath.
They went inside the gutted out house to sign some release forms and met two other people who worked there. The blond guy then took them out back where a huge multicolored hot air balloon was parked.
“You ready?” Spade asked her.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. She figured that if she was about to try something this daring, it may as well be with her life partner. This would be one of those stories they could share with their grandchildren, she figured.
“I’m ready.”
The blond guy opened the door for them to enter and locked it behind them. That click sound made Bria feel trapped. She felt like hopping over the edge. Clutching Spade’s hand she held on for dear life.
Blondie started up the hot air. Bria tried not to act nervous even though she couldn’t have been more nervous.
“It’s okay, baby,” Spade assured her. “I’ve got you.”
She looked up at him and relaxed somewhat. A rugged-looking guy assisted by untying the rope, and the balloon slowly ascended into the air.
Bria felt as light as the air they were ascending into. She couldn’t believe they were floating on air. It felt surreal. Pretty soon they were flying above the trees.
“What do you think?” Spade asked, smiling as if he already knew the answer.
“I absolutely love it. The view is breathtaking, and the air feels right.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you so much for this experience.”
“You’re always so supportive of me and my dreams. I just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you too. You’re about to open up a spa in less than a week. That’s a big deal. I took you up here to show you that the sky’s the limit.” With her head resting on his chest he held her by the waist.
Bria’s heart felt so full of love at that moment that if Spade did one more sweet thing, no matter how small, her heart would surely burst. She had been very vocal about her enthusiasm for starting her own company. Many nights she stayed up late sharing her business goals and long-term plans with him. He knew better than anyone how excited she was about this new venture.
Then she thought about the first time they met. Both were freshmen at Clark Atlanta University. They had an English class together, and he was such a clown, always cracking jokes and trying to make her laugh.
To her, he was the handsomest guy she had ever met. She had never seen eyes as sexy as his. His eyes had the same affect on her that kryptonite must have had on Superman. Coupled with his smooth bronze-colored skin, high cheekbones, full lips, and white, even teeth, he exceeded her wildest dreams.
His sense of humor attracted her even more than his good looks. They swiftly became friends and were inseparable. Whenever they were out together and a female disrespected her by flirting with him, Bria never had to say a word. He would straighten the girl out by letting her know that Bria was his girl, and disrespecting her was not an option.
One of the many things she really liked about Spade was his street credibility. He was from Detroit and had never been stabbed or shot. When they went out, she felt safe and shielded from any peril that was common in big cities.
She enjoyed talking to him because he was easy to talk to. She felt as though she could tell him anything, and he seemed interested in whatever she had to say.
When she confided in him that she was a virgin and planned to stay that way until she got married, he ended up giving her a hug and kissing her on the forehead. Even though he went to church as a child, he admitted to her that he didn’t fully understand what it meant to be saved. He had been told about God but didn’t feel as though he knew Him for himself. He asked her to tell him more about Jesus, and she did. His thoughtfulness at that moment convinced her that he was the man for her. Not long afterward he got saved.
Bria could feel a breeze blowing against her skin as they slowly drifted in the sky looking at the grass, trees, and structures below. The blond guy made a few comments about where they were and what they were seeing. As Bria looked at the blue sky and cottony looking clouds next to her she could see her future in the clouds. She felt free and every fiber of her being came alive. To her, this was living life to the fullest.
She felt Spade’s hand tighten around her waist. Being with him made her feel safe, protected, and cared for. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was marrying the man God had destined for her.
Just as the balloon wandered aimlessly in the sky without care or concern, Bria felt as though she too didn’t have a care in the world.
Four
At nine o’clock Monday morning, Spade found himself sitting in the doctor’s office getting examined.
The doctor touched the lump, and it moved readily with slight finger pressure. “Does that hurt?” the doctor asked.
“No.”
“Okay. In regard to the lump,” the doctor told him, “you have a lipoma.”
Spade could’ve sworn the lump jumped from his back to his throat. He had to swallow hard. He tried not to panic, but his pounding heart let him know he wasn’t doing a good job.
“Doc, if you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a good job.”
“No, no,” the doctor said. “Lipomas are the most common noncancerous soft tissue growth.” He scribbled some notes. “I’m going to remove it just to be sure the growth is noncancerous. I’ll be right back.”
Spade’s leg shook nervously as he waited for the doctor to return. He didn’t know the first thing about medicine, but he hoped and prayed the lump was as minor as the doctor made it seem.
The doctor knocked, and Spade told him to come in. He then explained the procedure. “I’m going to inject a local anesthetic around the lipoma, make an incision in the skin, remove the growth, and close the incision with sutures.” He made it sound so simple, Spade thought. “You ready?”
“Sure.”
His first instinct was to call Bria so that she could pray with him. They were prayer partners and prayed about everything. He was convinced that she had a direct line to God, because whenever they prayed together, miracles happened.
As badly as he wanted to tell her, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. She had enough on her plate with the opening of her business and planning the wedding. He didn’t want to worry her needlessly, especially over some small outpatient surgery.
The doctor performed the procedure, and it turned out to be fairly simple, just like he described.
“We’ll let you know when we hear back from the lab,” was the physician’s departing comment as Spade pulled his shirt back on and got ready to go home.
All Spade could do was pray for the best and wait.
Spade’s week had been packed. Nonstop. Every day seemed like a new adventure. The A&R Department told him what producers they had gotten for him to work with as well as where the CD would be recorded. His CD recordings were going to be split between Atlanta, Georgia, and London, England. When he found out he was going to be spending time in London he felt like a true artist. William Shakespeare had moved to London, and the royal family still lived there. He imagined London as being a place of inspiration. He was going to wait to tell Bria and keep it a secret. The two of them had combined a list of every place they wanted to travel, and London was on the top of the list. He liked surprising her; her reactions never got old.
Since he already had an approved title for his CD, the art department had begun working on the CD cover art. He knew they had the final say-so, but he was glad they asked for his input.
That early Friday afternoon was a day that changed the game for Spade. The doctor called to tell him his lab results were back and that Spade needed to come in right away so that he could go over the results with him. Nothing could’ve prepared him to hear the doctor tell him the dreaded words, “You have a form of cancer called lymphoma.”
“What is that?” he asked. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but this had taken him for a loop.
“Lymphoma is a type of cancer that begin
s in immune system cells. Not to sound like a textbook, but like other cancers, lymphoma occurs when cells are in a state of uncontrolled cell growth and multiplication.”
Spade felt as if his mind was on overload. In the cascade of medical terms, the only thing he heard was the big C—Cancer—the same disease that killed his beloved grandmother.
“W-what?” Spade stammered, refusing to believe what he had just heard.
“I’m sorry, but—”
“No! Run the test again,” Spade interjected, silently praying that he hadn’t heard what he just thought he had. Spade’s six foot two frame slumped over as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t consider himself to be sensitive by any means, but this broke him down like a fraction.
“I understand how you feel.” The doctor sounded sympathetic.
“No, unless you’ve been diagnosed with cancer yourself, you don’t understand how I feel,” he snarled. Spade felt as if the air was being sucked from the room and right out of his lungs.
Oblivious to the suffocating effects, the surgeon let the other shoe drop. “We’ll make an oncology appointment for you as soon as possible.”
Spade didn’t want to hear anymore. He slumped down in the chair and sobbed in his hands. All he could think about was dying young. He felt as if life had thrown him a major curve ball. This felt so unfair to him. He had so many hopes and dreams. Now this!
He looked up at the surgeon. “Why me?” Spade demanded. “Why now? This should be the happiest time of my life. I’m twenty-five years old, engaged to be married to an incredible woman, and, on top of everything, I just signed a recording contract with a major label.”
Seizing the brief moment of silence during Spade’s lament, the doctor said, “We’ll call you with your oncology appointment.”