“Why, yes. It’s funny that you ask. That’s what I do for a living—”
She interrupted him. “I know. That’s why I’m calling you. I would like to surprise Charity by having her car detailed. Can you bring your things here and do it?”
“Oh yes. When are you talking?”
“I’m going to take her out for lunch Friday, if you can detail the car while we’re gone.”
“No problem, just leave her keys with me. And I’ll have it done in less than an hour.”
“Good.” She clapped her hands excitedly. She wanted to do something nice for her sister since she had a hand in introducing her to Terrence. If Charity had not received the flowers, she would’ve never met him. “Thank you so much, Mr. Wright. I’ll talk to you more when you get here on Thurday.”
After Iesha hung up, she made a list of all the cleaning supplies she thought she would need to get ready for the DSS inspection. Mop, broom, smell good, sponges, Ajax, and some new dishrags. Housekeeping was not one of her strengths. She did what she had to do to keep the living room presentable, but beyond that, the house was what Mama Lorraine called “nasty.” If anyone could help get her house in order, it would be Mama Lorraine. Iesha just hated that she would have to tell her that she messed up—again.
“Hey, Ma,” she spoke into the phone. “What’chu doing?… I’m at work… Yeah, she’s got a client… I need a favor … Will you help me clean my house?… Yes…” Iesha sucked in her breath and exhaled as she spilled the news in one breath. She shifted in her seat, doodled on her calendar, and held the phone away occasionally as Mama Lorraine cussed her a little bit, and consoled her a little bit. “Thank you, Ma, you’re a lifesaver. Speaking of saving lives, I gave my life to Christ yesterday… Charity did… I’m for real this time too, Momma… Thank you, Mah… I’ll be home by five-thirty tomorrow… Okay, thanks… I love you too. Bye.”
That wasn’t too bad. Either that or I’ve messed up so many times I’m getting used to her I-told-you-so speech. She tore up her shopping list. Mama Lorraine had told her she would bring “the good stuff” with her.
Charity hurriedly completed her documentation on her last session. She needed to leave work early today. April would be meeting her at the mall at four o’clock so that they could find a dress for the banquet. She looked at her watch. It was 3:30. She knew she didn’t have enough time but she wanted to stop by the church and pick up a letter that had come for her. Mrs. Johnson, the church’s administrative assistant, called to tell her that she would hold the letter for her in the office. When Charity asked, Johnson said it looked like a card. Why would someone send me a card to the church? She could not wait to find out.
She’d ignored the first two rings of the telephone, but when it rang a third time, she yelled at it. “How many times can a phone ring? I’m trying to get outta here!” She picked it up on the fourth ring.
“Hello?… Hello, Emmitt…” She shuffled her feet like she was shouting. Thank You, Jesus. “Your mom’s in the hospital? I’m sorry to hear that.” She rolled her eyes. Wonder what it is this time?When is this man going to wake up and see how manipulative his mother is? Charity knew Elaine all too well. Every time she felt like her relationship with her son was being jeopardized she would become conveniently ill, and Emmitt would be right there with her, patting her like a baby. Charity thought back to all of the hospitalizations she had witnessed.
There was the time when she and Emmitt took her out to dinner to tell her that they’d become engaged. Within an hour she was rushed to the hospital for food poisoning. Then a few days before their wedding, she was hospitalized for high blood pressure. When she learned that Charity was pregnant, she developed a thyroid problem. Charity would bet anything that the hospital’s medical records department had a shelf reserved solely to house all of Elaine’s charts.
“Is she going to be okay?… A heart attack?… How long did the doctor say she would be there?” Just what I thought, he hadn’t even talked to the doctor yet. Charity knew what his mother’s diagnosis was, she probably just had a bad case of gas, as much as she eats. Charity thought about it for a minute. She realized that his mother had not been hospitalized since their separation and divorce. She has stayed out of the hospital for almost three years. Something had to be getting ready to happen for her to be there now. I wonder if he talked to his mom about reconciling with me. That thought brought a smile to her face.
“Does your mom need anything? Do you need anything?… I just want you to know that Zavey and I are here for you . . . Okay… Well, keep us posted… We’ll talk to you later… I love you, bye.”
She could have slapped herself. That was not supposed to come out of her mouth. He must have been just as surprised as she was. All he said was, “Okay.”
Chapter 14
CHARITY WAS RUNNING BEHIND but still anxious to pick up her mail from the church. She pulled into the parking lot as if there were a gleaming HOT DOUGHNUTS NOW sign at Krispy Kreme. She sprinted into the church.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson,” she greeted.
“Hey, Minister Phillips. How’s it going?”
“All is well. How about yourself?”
“I’m good.” Mrs. Johnson turned around in her chair to access the file cabinet behind her desk. “I have your mail right here.” She pulled out a pink envelope. “Who do you know in the Bluegrass State?”
Charity raised her eyebrows. “Kentucky?” She looked at the return address on the card. “I don’t know anyone in Kentucky. Minister Joseph Nelson?” She wanted to read it, but when she looked at her watch she decided that she needed to go. “Thanks, Mrs. Johnson. I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Sister April at the mall.” She turned to leave. “Tell Pastor I said hello.” She sped out of the parking lot and while waiting at every red light, she read the card and two-page letter.
She was back to sprinting after she parked her car at the mall. There was no doubt in her mind that April would be on time, tapping her foot and looking at her watch. She walked aerobically to Group USA Warehouse, the retail store that she and April shared as a favorite. The sight of April tapping her foot and lowering her arm after looking to see what time it was on her watch made Charity smile. I know my girl.
“I was determined to be on time,” Charity greeted.
“Girl, when are you ever on time?”
“I know,” she laughed. “But at least I’m less than ten minutes late.”
They walked into the store.
“Uhhhh!” April went running. “This is you, Charity.” She tugged on a long, shimmering gold, spaghetti-strapped dress.
Charity turned her nose up at it. “You know I’m too black for that dress.”
“You’re always talking about you too black for something. If that’s the case, you need to wear something that’ll lighten you up.”
“Lighten me up, yes. But to brighten me up to the point where I can’t be turned down, no.”
“The Bible says that you’re the light of the world.”
Charity shook her head. “Come on, Sister Word.” She pulled her by the arm and led her to another rack of dresses. “What do you think about this?” She pulled a dress off the rack and held it up for her friend’s approval.
April looked sideways at the graceful, black, ankle-length sleeveless dress. It had a sequin design around the neck and a front split. “It’s nice. Definitely sexy, you gone have to use your anointing oil on your left leg with a split like that.”
Charity held the dress up to her body and looked in a nearby mirror. “Do you think it’s too sexy? I don’t want to send the wrong message.”
April laughed. “And neither do I. You’re going out with my man.”
Charity laughed too. “Let’s go to Belk’s and Dillard’s. If they don’t have anything, I’ll come back and get this one.”
“Girl, get that dress with your Size 2 behind. You look good in everything. I ain’t never seen nobody who could make a pair of jeans with a T-shirt look classy. Get that dress
.”
“No, let’s keep looking. We’ll come back.”
After an hour of going from store to store, Charity was growing frustrated. “If I try on another dress, I’m going to scream.” She put a black dress with a silk apricot draped neck back on the rack. “I need a break.” She looked at her watch. “Let’s go get some ice cream. I have another hour before I pick up Xavier. I think I want that first one we saw in Group USA.”
“Fine with me. Some cherry pistachio ice cream sounds good right about now. I’ll follow your lead.”
Charity knew Concord Mills Mall like the back of her hand. She led her friend through two concourses before they reached the food court. Charity stopped April before they headed toward Baskin-Robbins. “You know how we do with ice cream, right?”
April nodded and looked Charity in the eye. “You have something you want to talk to me about?”
“Yes, it just happened and it’s going to sound really strange, but—”
April’s eyes widened. She placed her hand over her chest. “Oh my God. You gotta breakthrough in your marriage, didn’t you?”
Charity snapped her fingers. She’d forgotten to tell April about Emmitt’s phone call and the surprise that he was sending to her. “Oh yes. I believe I’ve received restoration of my marriage, but—”
April threw both of her hands up and did a two-step shuffle. “Thank You, Jesus. Hallelujah. The prayers of the righteous availeth much.”
Charity looked around to see if anyone was looking. She could not believe that this girl was really shouting in the middle of the mall. Charity locked her arm in April’s and led her to a nearby table with chairs. “Girl, you are a wet wick, the smallest spark can light your fire.” April was rocking back and forth trying to contain herself. “I know you’ve been praying for Emmitt and me and God is truly answering your prayers. But what I want to talk to you about is this.” She retrieved the pink envelope from her purse and gave it to her. “Find us a table closer to Baskin-Robbins and read it while I order our ice cream.”
Charity prayed as she walked to the counter. She needed divine instruction and she hoped God would use April as a mouthpiece. She was intrigued by the contents of Minister Nelson’s letter and wanted to respond, but didn’t know if she should. She didn’t know if she was nervous and just wanted to get back to April or if the cashier deserved the attitude she was giving her. She knew the teen-aged employees saw her standing at the counter, but they kept talking as if their conversation were more important than doing their jobs.
“Hel-lo?” she called to get their attention. One of her biggest pet peeves was unprofessional people.
The young girl glanced back at her male coworker as she sashayed toward Charity. “May I help you?”
You can stop chewing that gum like a cow for one thing. “I’d like two scoops of mint chocolate chip and two scoops of cherry pistachio.” Charity dug in her purse for her wallet, annoyed with the cashier who just stood there like she was waiting on something else. Charity forced a smile, “How much do I owe you?”
The cashier sucked a bubble from the gum she was chewing back into her mouth. “Ma’am, you have to tell me how you want your ice cream. Do you want it in a cup or a cone?”
What difference does it make? Charity pursed her lips together to hold her tongue, then spoke like she was talking to someone whose second language was English. “I’d like the mint chocolate chip in one cup, and the cherry pistachio in another.”
“That’s all you had to say the first time.”
Charity cocked her head to the side and pointed at the cashier. “Look, little girl…” She stopped mid-sentence, remembering who she was and to whom she belonged. She took a deep breath. “Please go get my order before I say and do something that we’ll both regret.” Charity looked at the cash register to find the cost. Even though the old Charity was dead and buried, it only took a second to resurrect her.
April was still reading the letter when Charity returned with the ice cream. She sat the tray on the table. To try and feel April out she said, “Girl, I about went off on that little girl at the cash register.” When April didn’t look up, Charity continued. “So should he be one of my clients?”
April did not lift her eyes from the letter. “No, he seems to be where he needs to be. But if you’re thinking about writing him back, you might consider making an appointment somewhere.”
Charity sat down and started eating. “It’s courteous to at least acknowledge that I received his letter.”
April refolded the letter and slid her ice cream closer. “That’s how women get killed these days—being courteous. Charity, the man’s in jail, he’s not looking for courtesy, he’s looking for a pen pal.”
“He just wrote to say that he was blessed by my article in Today’s Gospel.”
“And he also wrote you a two-page story about his life.”
“He was just explaining how he got to where he is.”
April sighed. “You’re talking like this is normal. Like it’s okay to receive correspondence from a criminal. I’m sure your article was nice, but do you think this is the first time he was so inspired that he wrote to an author?”
Charity didn’t respond. She asked God for divine instruction, and she had to accept what she was given.
April continued. “Don’t get me wrong. Aside from being locked up, he sounds like a nice person. He writes well. Sounds like he has a relationship with Christ. And that’s commendable considering most men in jail turn to the Nation of Islam. Seems like he sincerely wants you to know that he’s a good person who made a mistake. But the fact remains that he’s in jail.”
“I’m surprised. I thought you would’ve been all in the Bible on this one. Giving me Scripture after Scripture about how I need to write back because the Scriptures say, ‘judge not that you be not judged’ or at least when Jesus said… better yet, let me show it to you…” Charity took the pocket Bible out of her purse and flipped through its pages. “Here it is, Matthew 25:36, ‘I was in prison, and You came unto me.’”
“No, you didn’t. You know good and well Jesus ain’t never been to prison. He was teaching a parable about judgment.”
Feeling foolish, Charity kept up her argument. “Okay, you got me on that one. Paul and John the Baptist, two of the greatest men of the Bible, were imprisoned, and considering all of the mess we did back in college, we might’ve served some time too.”
“Now I’ll give you that one. We should’ve served some time for the mess we did.”
“I’m not looking for a husband. I just want to write back and thank him for his kind words and let him know I’ll be praying for him.”
April opened the letter again. “Dear Minister Phillips,” she read. “Your ‘I Have No Man’ missive in the February issue of Today’s Gospel blessed me so much that I wanted to tell you thanks and to encourage you to keep letting our Lord and Savior use you. I tried hard not to write you, telling myself that it was a foolish idea, but you and I know God uses foolish things to confound the wise. I felt an unction in my spirit to contact you. In fact, the babe in my spirit man leaped as I read your testimony. I know the Spirit led me to find you.” She put the letter down. “Charity, you need to be prayerful about what spirit he was led by.”
Charity picked up the letter. “What? I thought that was sweet. I bet if he weren’t in jail, you’d be telling me to go for him. Look at him, the boy is fine.”
April looked at the picture that he had sent again. She had to admit Minister Nelson was handsome. “I sure would tell you to go for him,” she said, spooning her now-melted ice cream.
“Like you said, he sounds like a nice person who made a mistake—”
“Yep, a felonious one. A police officer who got charged with aiding and abetting.”
Charity shrugged her shoulders. “He said he didn’t know his partner was crooked.”
“How can a police officer with over ten years’ experience not know his partner was accepting bribes from the peopl
e they stopped?”
“I don’t know. He said his partner framed him when he got caught and said that Minister Nelson knew all along that his partner was accepting bribes.”
“I guess the good thing is that they were never able to find any evidence against him. You know how we can find out don’t you?”
“Find out what?”
“If he’s telling the truth or not.”
“How?”
“We can look it up on the Internet. They have those Web sites where you can look up inmates and see their crimes, their sentences, and everything.”
“You need to stay off Court TV.”
“I wouldn’t write him back until I at least did that.”
Charity considered April’s suggestion. It sounded like a good idea. “Do you know how to look it up?”
“Yeah. I’ll do it when I get home and call you.” April sipped a spoonful of melted ice cream. “He only got a five-year sentence, so he is probably telling the truth. How long has he been there?”
“Two years.”
“What is the world coming to? Police officers breaking the law they’re supposed to uphold.”
“I know. Emmitt is the one who should’ve been in jail… for domestic violence.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have gone to a federal facility. I know you’ve already made up your mind and I honestly don’t think responding is a bad idea. I just don’t want you to give the wrong impression, or for him to get the wrong impression. You know? Your real dad’s in jail, isn’t he?”
Charity nodded.
“Why don’t you ask him for advice?”
Charity sucked her teeth. “I know you’ve lost it now. You want me to write my father and tell him that someone from jail wrote to me and to give me advice on what to do?”
“No. Ask him how inmates find their pen pals. And if you’re bold enough tell him about Minister Nelson.”
Charity looked at her watch. “Let’s go get this dress,” she said, standing. “I refuse to write Brother Abdul for advice. I only told you because I was seeking godly counsel. I’m not interested in what his Allah has to say. That’s evidence of one truth you spoke about Minister Nelson—he is to be commended for turning to God. I’m still praying the same for my father.”
Good to Me Page 13