When the guests dwindled down to a few, Alaysia, Khalil and I started cleaning up. Some of the staff members and regular clients helped out. I noticed Alex talking to Eric, one of the personal trainers, in the corner. He caught my eye and winked. He handed Eric a business card and came over to me.
I raised my eyebrows. “New friend?”
“We were talking business. He wants to open his own gym out in the southeast part of town. Looks like you guys inspired him to strike out on his own.”
“Hmmm. He ain’t the brightest firefly in the forest. Know that it won’t be as easy as working with me.”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Ms. Harris?”
“Not at all, Mr. Thompson. Just letting you know what you’re getting into.”
He smiled. “Ready for coffee?”
I looked around. Most of the guests were gone. Alaysia came over. “You heading out?”
“You guys okay here?” I asked.
“Yeah, we got it. You guys go ahead.” She gave me this strange look like she couldn’t believe I was leaving with Alex. She walked back over to the food table.
I turned back to Alex. “So, where are we getting this coffee?”
“Wanna go to Tarrazu?”
I shrugged. “Sounds good.”
“You can ride with me and I’ll bring you back here. No sense in taking two cars.”
“No way, man. A girl never knows when she may have to make a quick exit.”
He chuckled. “All right then. I’ll meet you there in a few.”
When I walked into the dimly lit environment, I wondered if Alex had more on his agenda than talking. The café was small, and the tables close and intimate. I followed him to a table in the corner. I purposely sat across the table from him instead of next to him.
He smiled. “Afraid I’ll bite?”
“Maybe I’m afraid I’ll bite. What’s up, Alex? What did you want to talk about?”
“Relax a second. Order some coffee.”
“Alex.”
He took my hand. “I wanted to talk to you, or let you talk about what you mentioned on the phone.”
I frowned. “What did I mention on the phone?”
“You said if you were gonna be with me, you might as well be with your ex-husband. The way you said it, and the way you took off so quick that night at the salsa club let me know something bad must have happened and you’re still hurt behind it.” Alex shrugged. “I thought you might want to talk about it.”
I looked at him. He sat there and waited.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m trying to put it behind me.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job of it.”
“Why do you say that? I think I’ve done a very good job. In the eight months I’ve been in Atlanta, I’ve changed my lifestyle, lost a ton of weight, conquered diabetes and high blood pressure, and successfully started a business. I think I’m doing pretty darn good.”
“That’s not what your eyes say.”
I let out a deep breath and picked up a coffee menu. “You buying?”
Alex flagged down the waiter and we ordered two lattes. He put his hand on mine. He wasn’t giving off his sensual energy this time. He just felt like a friend.
The jazz playing overhead was soothing. I let it and the rich, robust aroma of gourmet coffee relax me as we sat there listening for a while.
“You remind me a lot of him. Of my husband,” I finally said.
“How so?”
“Beautiful eyes that look down deep into my heart, great listener who makes me feel like you’re genuinely interested in what I have to say, affectionate and touchy-feely.”
“He’s not as good-looking as me, though, right?”
“Sorry, Alex. He’s better looking than you are.”
“Oh, I’m crushed. That means I don’t have a chance, huh?” He looked at me with those eyes I thought I could lose myself in. “You still love him a lot, huh?”
The waiter brought our drinks. I took a sip of my latte. Nodded. Took another sip and then picked up a napkin to catch the single tear that escaped my eye.
Alex rubbed my arm. “What happened?”
“I walked in on him and one of his old lovers.” I bit my lip. Why was I talking about this?
“Did you know he was bi when you married him?”
I shook my head and wiped my eyes. I hadn’t cried about this in months, but talking about it now, it felt as fresh as when it first happened. I guess Alex was right. I hadn’t done a good job of putting it behind me. It was like my junk closet at home. I pushed all the feelings inside and closed the door as quickly as I could. As long as the door stayed closed, I was okay. The minute I turned the knob, all the stuff came pouring out.
“So he decided to go back with his old lover?”
“No. He said it was a one-time mistake and he loves me and wants to stay married. He loses it when I even bring up the subject of divorce.” I briefly told him Kevin’s story. I figured the two of them would never meet, and I felt like I could trust Alex.
Alex sipped his latte. “Sounds like you really love him and he really loves you. You don’t think you can forgive him?”
“I have forgiven him.”
“Then why aren’t the two of you back together?”
“Have you heard anything I’ve said?” I rolled my eyes. “Why am I explaining this to you? You’re okay with this whole mixed sexual preference couple thing.”
Alex chuckled. “Your case is different. You said your husband wanted to be straight and he believed God had made him straight.”
“Yeah, but obviously He didn’t.”
“I don’t think that one-time event means He didn’t.”
“Are you telling me you believe God can make a gay man straight?”
“I lost my best... ‘friend’ that way, so yes, I believe it.”
“What do you mean, you lost your best friend that way?”
“My partner from one of the best relationships I’ve ever been in started going to this church pastored by an ex-gay and his wife, and after a lot of church and therapy, he ‘changed.’ He’s happily married now with three kids. His wife is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.”
I looked at him. I tried to suppress the seed of hope rising up in my soul. I was moving on with my life without Kevin, and I didn’t want to go daydreaming about God delivering him and us getting back together again.
My heart wanted to believe it, though. Wanted to believe Kevin could be okay and that we could get back together and have babies and I wouldn’t end up alone living with fifty cats or dogs or fish or whatever in a cold bed all by myself.
“Monica?”
“Yeah?” I shook myself out of my daze.
“You okay?”
“Just thinking. I don’t know what to believe. They actually have churches where they make gay people straight?” I lowered my voice and leaned toward him. The couple at the next table was close enough to hear our conversation.
Alex nodded. “There’s this whole national group of ministries of thousands of people who used to be “in the life,” who’ve gone through whatever process they take the people through, and they say they’re happily heterosexual now, in healthy relationships, married with kids, all that good stuff.”
“How come you never went to one?”
Alex laughed. “Because I’m happy being who I am. I know there are a lot of homosexuals and bisexuals out there who are miserable with their lives—unhappy and gay, as they call them. I’m not one of them. I’m happy being bisexual, and I don’t want to change.” He leaned closer and spoke right into my ear. “I must admit, meeting you made me think about it, though.”
I was too stunned by everything he was saying to respond to his flirting.
“That was a joke, Monica.”
“I’m sorry. I’m thinking. After that day, I never considered me and my husband getting back together. I figured it was over and I had to move on. I never thought . .
.” I shook my head. “So much for being a Christian with faith, huh?”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Sounds like the way everything came out was pretty traumatic for you. I think most women would have responded the same way.”
Alex put his hand on mine. “I have to get you a copy of the pastor’s book. My ‘friend’ sent it to me a few years back. I guess he was so happy with his new life, he wanted to share it with me. I have to dig it out of a box somewhere.”
“Thanks. I’d like to read it.”
“I’ll have to see if I can get you the pastor’s contact information too. They’re right here in Atlanta. If nothing else, you should talk to somebody. Whether you decide to stay with your husband or not, you still need to be able to get over this.”
“Thanks, Alex.” I kissed his cheek. “I might have to take back what I said about us not being able to be friends.”
“We can be friends as long as you don’t wear those sexy dresses. And you can’t be kissing and touching all over me either. I’m still a man.”
I laughed.
“Seriously, that’s what friendship is all about. Me helping you get back together with your husband and ruining my chances of being able to get with you.”
I laughed and punched his arm.
We finished our lattes and Alex walked me to my car. He hugged me. “I’ll call you when I find the book. Remember, if it doesn’t work out with you and your husband, I might be willing to look into this deliverance thing. You could make me want to change.”
I shook my head. “You never stop trying, do you, Alex?”
“Would I be this successful if I did?”
Later that night, when I climbed into bed, Alex’s words kept ringing in my head. Could God really make a gay man straight? I knew Kevin would be willing to do whatever it took. I couldn’t wait to get the book and contact the pastor Alex mentioned.
Slow down, Monica. I didn’t want to get too excited. Hope left too much room for disappointment, and I didn’t need any more disappointment in my life right now, especially when it came to Kevin.
God, I don’t even know what to pray about this. Don’t let me get excited about this if it’s not You. I want to believe You brought me and Alex together so he could tell me about this pastor and his wife. If it’s just to help my healing process so I can move on with my life, then so be it. But if You really plan on delivering Kevin and . . .
Let your will be done, God. That’s all I ask. Your perfect will be done.
42
The next day, I was spotting a client doing chest presses when Talinda came bouncing up.
“Girl, you just had a visitor.” She looked like a kid with a big secret.
“Who?”
“Mr. Fine from last night. He left a package for you. That man is some kinda gorgeous. What’s the deal with y’all? I wouldn’t mind your leftovers in his case.”
“Talinda, trust me. Everything’s not what it looks like. What did he leave?”
“A big, brown envelope. It’s in the office on your desk.”
I couldn’t think of any paperwork Alex had to drop off, so I hoped it was the book.
When I got to my office, I pulled the book out of a large envelope on my desk. Touching a Dead Man: One Man’s Explosive Story of Deliverance From Homosexuality by Pastor Derrick Ford. I stuffed it back into the envelope. I appreciated Alex’s discretion. I didn’t want anybody jumping to conclusions if they saw me with it. Thankfully, I was finished for the day, so I could go home and read.
I stretched out on the chaise lounge in my bedroom and looked over at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. I had been up the entire evening reading and was almost finished with the book. My head was spinning.
According to this guy, God not only could deliver homosexuals, He had. I felt guilty for not believing God was God. I saw how the spirit of homosexuality had preyed on Kevin, much like it had preyed on the pastor in the book. Life circumstances left an open door for the enemy to walk in and set up a stronghold in both of their lives.
I felt the most guilt for my prejudice against homosexuals. Being Alaysia’s roommate in college, I had watched her sleep with more men than I could count. I hadn’t thought much about her smoking and drinking, and even indulged with her on more than one occasion. I barely blinked when she told me about her hard drug use. I ministered to her about God’s forgiveness when she told me about her abortion. I had watched Trina battle with her fornication demon and never condemned her. Why was the whole homosexuality thing the worst sin imaginable when I had easily forgiven other sins?
Of course, there was the fact that Kevin cheated on me, but if he had cheated with a woman, would I have been more ready to forgive him?
The last chapter explaining the title hit me the hardest. It was about Jesus resurrecting Lazarus from the dead and instructing the people to let him out of his grave clothes. In Jewish culture, touching a dead man was a sin and made one ceremonially unclean. For Jesus to tell them to touch him said to defy religious law and be willing to touch a stinking dead person to help them out of the grave and into new life. The church definitely wasn’t that way toward homosexuals.
Could I be that person? I pulled up Pastor Ford’s website on my computer. I looked at the picture of him and his beautiful wife, both with exuberant smiles. I studied his wife’s face. She was gorgeous and obviously not hard up for a man. What allowed her to love her husband in spite of? What kind of woman was she? What did she do when she found out? Did she change up on him or did she love him so much it didn’t matter? How did it feel for his ministry to be public?
I thought about Donnie McClurkin. Definitely one of my favorite gospel singers, ever since his first album with New York Restoration Choir came out. I didn’t love him any less since he started giving his testimony. If anything, I loved him more for being transparent and willing to sacrifice his reputation for the sake of someone else’s soul. Would Kevin want to do that when he got delivered? If he did, would I be able to smile like Dana Ford and support him one hundred percent?
It was too much to think about. I logged off and crawled into bed. Two last questions swam through my mind. Would Kevin be willing to seek help from these pastors? If so, would I be willing to take him back?
43
The next morning, there was a light knock at my bedroom door. “Yes, Alaysia.”
She popped her head in the door. “How many Sundays do I have to invite you before you go to church with me?”
I sat up in bed. “Oh, I don’t know. How many Sundays did I invite you when we were in college and you never ever went?”
“Is that what this is about? Revenge? I told you about walking in unforgiveness.”
I laughed.
“Come on, if it wasn’t the bomb, would I invite you?”
“My, how the tables have turned. This used to be me every Sunday.”
“I’m through asking. You’re going. Today. No excuses. Get dressed.”
It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. Alaysia wore jeans to church every Sunday, so I figured I’d do the same, even though it felt weird.
Alaysia was waiting for me in the living room after I got dressed. “You’re gonna love it. I promise.”
“I’m going on one condition, Alaysia Zaid. You break this rule and I’ll never go to church with you again.”
“What?”
“No matchmaking allowed. I mean it. No pointing anyone out, no introducing me to anybody then running off and leaving me alone. If I see a hint of matchmaking, I’m out—never to return again.”
Alaysia laughed. “Girl, I ain’t trying to set you up with anybody but God. He’s the only Man you need right now.”
“Good. Now that we have an understanding, let’s go.”
Church was definitely different. For one, the congregation was mixed—all nationalities. Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Indians, and Asians all worshiped together. The pastors were a mixed couple; she was black and he was white. I had never been to an
ything but a black church. It made me nervous about the music. That was one thing I was particular about. At Love and Faith Christian Center, Kevin had spoiled me with good worship.
The church was a transformed warehouse with a stage and a podium at the front. There were no pews, just folding chairs to seat about five hundred, much smaller than Love and Faith. The stage had a large keyboard, a guitar, bass and a big drum set. No organ. This definitely wasn’t a black church.
The praise and worship was different, but I still enjoyed it. When the praise and worship leader began to usher us into the presence of God, I felt like I was home. He sang from the depths of his heart and took us into the throne room. It reminded me of Kevin, except that instead of a Bishop Walker cutting off the worship to move on with the program, neither of the pastors moved. They let the guy take us higher and higher until I thought my heart would explode. I knew what Alaysia meant about flying to heaven and feeling God. I felt like I was being raptured.
I enjoyed the pastor ’s teaching too. He sounded just like Khalil. He came at the Word in a different way that made me think outside my traditional Christian box. It made me want to study the Word more. I knew I would definitely be back. Throughout the whole service, Alaysia kept looking at me, I guess to see if I was enjoying myself. When the pastor directed the whole congregation to pray in the spirit, I opened one eye and caught her staring at my lips and had to laugh.
After service, Alaysia hugged a lot of people and introduced me to some friends she’d made. It was weird seeing her all into church. Everyone hugged and kissed her like she was a member.
Khalil came over and gave me a big hug. “Monica, glad to see you here. Got tired of Alaysia harassing you?”
“Yeah, you know how she can be. Sometimes it’s easier to give in.”
Khalil laughed. “Don’t I know it. When she gets something in her mind she wants, I might as well forget it.”
Alaysia put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”
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