by B. M. Hardin
“Oh, Maxi, got jokes huh? Now, you know I can’t cook,” Dianna said, taking a seat beside of me.
Oh, yeah, that’s right…she couldn’t.
Yep, she didn’t have a chance with Shelton.
His stomach wore the pants in this relationship; and a woman that couldn’t cook-couldn’t do a thing for him.
“Can I ask you something?” I said to her, scheming up a few questions.
“Shoot for it,” she said nonchalantly.
“How do you really know Shelton? And I want the real answer, not the fake story that you both told me,” I said to her, giving her the evil eye.
As close as they were, they had to have some real history; not just previous church history.
“What? What are you talking about?” Dianna asked uncomfortably.
I just looked at her, silently, patiently waiting.
“Maxi, come on. We met in church. He used to be a minister at my father’s church, St. Johns, as you know; for years. Shelton was ready to branch out on his own so he transferred to take the Pastor position at New Hope. I came to visit the first Sunday that he was set to preach, spoke to him after the service, and he asked if I would stick around and be his secretary. He said he wanted someone in the position that he knew and that he could trust. He had been like a son to my father...literally; which made him like my brother. So, I felt that it was only right that I accept his offer,” Dianna concluded.
She and Shelton always told the same, exact story…the same exact way.
It almost sounded damn near rehearsed; but still yet, it was always the same.
“Did they ever catch whoever it was that did this to you?” she questioned me, obviously changing the subject.
It had been over a two weeks since the attack, but I had only been home for a few days.
Shelton hadn’t left my side, not even once, so he was far behind on church business.
I forced him to tend to his other duties, but he insisted that Dianna came over to babysit Mackenzie…and me.
“No, not yet. They said that they had a witness; but we haven’t heard anything else from them,” I responded.
No matter what the police thought, I was convinced that I didn’t know the person who'd attacked me.
I mean, I had no enemies; hell pretty much, no one even knew that I existed.
I didn’t have any family and I didn’t keep in contact with anybody once I left Texas; so in my opinion, the police were wrong.
My attack couldn't have been personal.
But I was dying to know who it was.
Why on earth would someone attack a woman, with her child, for no reason at all?
People could be so cruel.
And other than that, why go through all of the trouble of knocking me out, pretty much leaving me for dead, yet they didn't touch or take a thing?
It just didn’t make sense to me.
Things just weren't adding up.
But whoever it was deserved every bit of what was coming to them.
I’ll admit, though I was grateful to be alive, the near death experience had me, and Shelton, both acting just a tad bit out of character.
Shelton was running around in protection mode.
I was seeing a lot more of those street qualities; that usually he tried to hide.
The old holy version of him, was on a little break; at least that was how it seemed.
Instead of love and hope in his eyes, lately I was seeing revenge; and just a small speck of hate.
He just seemed as though he was ready to go to war; or as if he was ready to go do a drive by or something.
But, despite how much he was on edge, he was still being the perfect husband; as always.
Shelton was doing everything that he could to make sure that I was comfortable; and he made sure that I felt safe.
For the most part; I felt safe.
But to be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure as to what else I was feeling.
It wasn't all righteous and holy---that was for sure.
All I knew was that someone had tried to kill me...and I wanted to know why.
“Hey…you okay?” Dianna snapped at me.
Little did she know---she almost got smacked; but instead, I simply nodded and smiled.
“Well, how about I order us some lunch huh,” Dianna said as she headed toward the kitchen.
I laughed at her behind her back.
How was she ever going to get a husband if she couldn’t cook?
~***~
“Hey you, how was your day? How are you feeling?” Shelton asked me, immediately upon entering the house.
He dropped his bags by the front door, approached me and then kissed my forehead.
Before I could even answer him, he spoke to Dianna and reached for Mackenzie, who started to clap once she was in his arms.
“Thanks Dianna for helping Maxi today. I don’t know what I would do without you,” Shelton praised Dianna.
I looked directly at her.
Wait a minute…
Did the bit---excuse me; did she just blush?
I sure looked like a slight blush to me!
“Oh, it was no problem, really, anything for you and my bestie. I love you guys to pieces, bro,” she joked and playfully punched him in his arm.
Her words and actions relaxed me...to a certain extent.
Maxi, get it together…
It was obvious that their relationship was innocent.
I smiled as Dianna made her way over to me.
She hugged my neck, kissed my cheek, and confirmed that she was coming back tomorrow---whether I wanted her to or not.
As the front door closed behind her, I turned my attention to Shelton.
I studied him in silence.
I watched him in thought.
“Babe, how about pizza for dinner?” he asked.
I frowned and nodded behind him.
“Sorry, that’s what we had for lunch. I’ll cook you something, what do you want?” I asked attempting to get up from the couch.
“No, sit back down. I’ll cook for you instead, okay?” Shelton said, pointing for me to retake my seat.
I knew that I didn’t have much of a choice, so I sat back down, and watched him and Mackenzie head to the kitchen.
Soon, followed the opening and shutting of cabinets, pots rattling and hitting the floor.
Lord, please don’t let him burn the house down!
I thought about getting up to assist, but I knew that it would only be a waste of time.
After things quieted down, I closed my eyes.
Touching the back of my head, I could still feel the stitches; but for the most part, the swelling had gone down.
For some reason, I began to think about what death.
What would have happened if I'd died?
Who would have helped Shelton take care of Mackenzie?
Would it have been Dianna?
I entertained a vision of them.
They were laughing together, and both of them were holding one of Mackenzie’s hands.
The expression on Dianna’s face, for Shelton, no longer said brotherly love; but her face was full of passion, love...and everything else in between.
I looked on at them from the clouds of Heaven with envy.
They were doing just fine; they were happy…without me.
My eyes popped open and I shook away the thoughts and the disturbing vision in my head.
Right away, I began to pray.
The Devil was surely up to something and I was going to stop him in his tracks before anything got out of hand.
There was nothing there.
I was alive for a reason.
I was still here for a purpose.
Closing my eyes again, my praying turned into napping and it wasn’t until the smoke detectors began to sound, that I woke up in a panic.
“Shelton!” I screamed.
He came running into the living room with Mackenzie in one arm, and a dish rag in the other.
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Shelton was covered in flour from head to toe.
He looked at me, pitifully.
“Uh, are you sure that you don’t want pizza again?” he asked with the grin of a failure.
I simply smiled and shook my head.
~***~
“It was a woman?” I asked.
“According to the witness’s statement,” the police officer stated.
“They didn’t quite get a look at her face though; she was wearing face paint and sunglasses. But the witness said that she was pretty tall; somewhere around 5' 8'' or 5' 9''. She was African American, and they described the skin on her hands as being that of a caramel-coffee complexion; not too light and not too dark. They found it strange that she hadn't bothered to wear any gloves during the assault. The witness also said that during her final swing, her hat fell off and they were able to see that she had long black hair; almost blending in perfectly with her all black attire. Her body frame was described as being very slender; maybe 150 pounds at the most. The attacker struck you with some kind of thick piece of wood. The witness said that he caught notice of the attack just as he was about to get into his vehicle, and he yelled in her direction. He said she didn't bother to look back, only bent down to pick up her hat and then she took off running. He rushed over to you and instead of chasing after her, he tended to your the cries of your daughter, and then called 911. I know it’s a lot to take in, but I have to ask you this; is there any one that you know, that might fit the woman’s description?" the policeman asked.
Hell yes…and I was looking right at her.
Dianna appeared in the doorway of my bedroom.
Everything single detail...described Dianna.
Down to the tee.
And I do mean down to the very last detail. She was that exact height.
Damn near that same complexion.
She was pretty much that exact weight and her hair was long and black, and rested in the middle of her back.
“Mrs. Cartwright, are you still there?” I heard the police officer ask.
“Yes, I’m here. I’ll get back to you,” I said and hung up before he had a chance to respond.
I looked at Dianna from head to toe.
Of all people...it was her?
Why would she try to kill me?
I mentally criticized myself for even pondering that question.
It was the obvious why she had done it; she wanted my life...she wanted my husband.
“Everything okay boo?” Dianna asked me, being her usual perky self.
And to think that I really considered her to be my friend; I should have known.
I had never been trustworthy in my past friendships...maybe this was some type of karma.
But I'd changed, I really had.
Didn't that count for something?
My biggest question was how had Dianna known that I was going to Charlotte that day?
Had she been sitting somewhere in the cut when I left?
Had she followed me all the way there?
Had she watched me the whole time; waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike?
There were so many unanswered questions.
There were so many things that I just didn’t understand.
She was supposed to be my best friend.
“Bitch...get…out,” I said in a voice that may have given her the impression that I was calm; but for her sake, she sure as hell had better seen it as a warning.
She gasped and covered her mouth.
Yes; you damn right I said bitch; and I meant it too!
At that moment, I didn’t give two rats asses about what she or anyone else thought about my choice of words!
I wasn't in the mood to uphold my perfect Pastor’s wife image!
“Max---” Dianna started to say.
“You heard what I said…get out!” I screamed and stood up from the edge of my bed.
I’d never seen anyone move so fast in all of my life!
Mackenzie started to cry from the sudden loudness of my voice but I ignored her and headed to the bedroom window.
Dianna had just reached her car and it looked as though she was on her cell phone.
Of course she was calling Shelton.
She drove off and my next guess was that any minute now, Shelton would be arriving at home.
I was right.
In a matter of minutes, Shelton pulled into the drive way and came running toward the house.
I grabbed my daughter and made my way into the living room.
When Shelton entered, he halted at the sight of me and took only a second to catch his breath.
“Maxi, what’s wrong honey? What’s wrong? ” was all he asked.
I was surprised.
I actually expected him to come in fussing about my use of words and demanding an explanation for putting Dianna out of the house; but he didn’t.
I didn’t respond, I just stared at him.
I was looking for something but I wasn’t quite sure what.
Had he had something to do with this?
Did he and Dianna have some type of plan to get rid of me?
“Baby, say something, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asked again, now sitting on the couch beside of me, taking Mackenzie from my arms.
“The police called. The witness described my attacker…they described Dianna,” I said still in disbelief.
At first, Shelton looked confused.
For only about a second; he looked shocked. But that didn’t last long.
Right before my very eyes, Shelton evicted shock and confusion; and anger and hatred signed the lease and moved right on in!
The fury fires of Hell were visible in Shelton's eyes and I simply couldn't put into words what was written all over his face.
And for the first time, ever...he didn’t try to hide it.
~**********~
~Sometimes, the only person worth trusting...entirely...is you~
Anonymous
Chapter Four
Though my body was sitting in church, my mind was everywhere else.
I was wondering about Dianna.
After I told Shelton what the police officer said about my attacker, he called Dianna and had her come back to the house.
She, as always, had done exactly what Shelton had asked her to; but I don’t think even she expected or was prepared to Shelton's actions and behavior.
I know I sure as hell wasn’t.
Shelton was hollering and screaming, throwing things, and demanding answers that she pretended not to have.
He broke a lamp, punched a hole in the wall, and even gave Dianna a little shove.
It was clear that he wanted to hurt her…and I mean real, real bad.
He was scaring the crap out of all of us.
Still, no matter what he said, or done, Dianna denied any involvement in my attack.
She cried more than she spoke and said that she would never do anything to hurt me. Although all odds were against her and the witness had described her at the scene of the crime, in a way...I felt as though she was telling the truth.
But Shelton wasn’t buying it.
He went on and on about how no one was going to take his wife away from him and a whole bunch of other bull crap that no one understood but him.
Finally after a whole hour of fussing, swearing, and everything else that you could think of, Shelton kicked Dianna out of our house; and out of the church.
He told her that he never wanted to see or hear from her again---and we both knew that he meant it.
She ran out of our house that day, with her head in her hands, crying like she’d just lost her best friend…technically, she had; we all had.
After Shelton and I sat in front of each other for quite some time, not saying a word, finally he was the first to break his silence.
He said that we had to forgive her whether we wanted to or not and that she would have to answer to God for what she had done.
Okay, the Pastor was back.
If they tracked her down, good; if they didn’t, she would just have to live every day of the rest of her life, knowing what she had done to me.
The truth to the matter was pretty simple; despite what she had done…we both loved her.
If I felt angry, and betrayed; I could only imagine what Shelton was feeling.
No matter what, I just couldn’t believe that Dianna had tried to kill me.
God, why did it have to be her?
I trusted her.
I loved her.
And now I felt so stupid.
I should have listened to everyone and everything that was said about her.
I guess that's what I get for not listening to my elders.
The Mothers could see it; but I couldn't...or maybe it was that I wouldn't.
Nevertheless, it was clear.
I mean, what other reason would Dianna attack me, unless it was because she was in love with my husband?
For hours that day, I watched Shelton as he paced back and forth.
He was sweating, and mumbling to himself, as though he too, was trying to figure it all out.
He even ignored the cries of Mackenzie; which was something he'd never done before.
Without saying a word, he started to clean up the mess that he had made.
I personally couldn't believe that he had allowed himself to get as upset as he did.
But one thing was for sure; I had been right about his secret temper and anger problem.
Shelton showed his ass that day; and now that I knew what he was capable of...I surely wouldn't be pissing him off anytime soon.
That same night, I overheard him crying in the bathroom as he pretended to be in the shower.
I stood by the door; silently crying right along with him.
Shelton’s cries pierced my soul, and I knew that Dianna’s actions had hurt him to the core. He was heartbroken...we both were.
But no matter what; what Dianna had done would never be forgotten.
No matter how bad we both wanted to pretend that it never happened.
The church, in unison, said Amen, and I redirected my attention back to Shelton and the sermon.
Rightfully so, this Sunday, Shelton was preaching about forgiveness.
He spoke about how forgiveness wasn’t necessarily about the other person; but more or less, it was about you.
It was for your own sake.