by Pat Simmons
Despite Cheney's smiles, the sadness peeked through. If God was a fairy godfather, Malcolm would ask for one wish—a baby for Parke and Cheney. Malcolm fingered his napkin, stalling to broach the subject of God without becoming defensive. "I can't believe I acted a fool about going to church."
"We can," Cheney and Parke answered in unison.
"You're a fool, Uncle Malcolm," Kami repeated, grinning. Everybody chuckled, including Malcolm. She repeated fool at least two more times before her parents stopped her.
Malcolm cleared his throat. "Have Hallison and Trey set a date?"
Cheney frowned, thinking. "You know, we haven't talked about that. I honestly don't know."
Malcolm ended his inquires about Hallison. No sense in torturing himself about something that was his own doing that he couldn't change. Trey was a lucky man. Lisa was hot, but she sure knew how to cool off a brother with her antics at the hospital and her declaration of magic, voodoo, witchcraft, or whatever else she did.
The following week, Malcolm attended church again with Parke and Kami. The pastor preached Proverbs 29:23: A man's pride shall bring him low. But honor shall uphold the humble in spirit. Since birth, he was taught to wear the Jamieson name with pride. He was proud to be a Black man, a CPA, a homeowner, an uncle, and a lover. There was not a humble bone in his body and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. The message didn't convict him, although it gave him pause to consider it.
* * *
Hallison groaned as she parked in front of Parke's house at the same time as Malcolm. They had reached some kind of truce the night they stayed at the hospital more than a month ago. She watched as he came around to her car door to open it. Always a gentleman, always fine.
"Hey, Hali," he greeted, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek, he waited for her permission.
Any other time, his endearing gesture would've seemed harmless, but with the frail ceasefire between him and Trey, Hallison didn't think that would be a good idea "Hi, Malcolm, you wouldn't be offended if I said no, would you?" She smiled and hoped he understood.
"Offended? No. Am I disappointed? Yes." Malcolm always said what he meant. He stepped back and allowed her to lead the way. Hallison expected Malcolm to perform his customary wacky doorbell ring, but he never touched the bell. Instead, they scrutinized each other under hooded lashes. Malcolm gave off the same vibe when they first met—attraction. She remembered his compliment: "I'm in awe of your beauty." From another man's lips, it would have been a lie, but Hallison sensed his sincerity. Malcolm was a good man.
Malcolm was also handsome, despite the bruise near his eye that he wore like a badge of honor. The discoloration was fading, but on a light-skinned man, it was obvious that it wasn't a birthmark. He could've easily concealed some of it with large sunglasses, but that wasn't Malcolm Jamieson's style.
She watched as he scrutinized her from head to toe. She had her eyes trained on him. When he finished his appraisal, their eyes met. She who gets Malcolm as a husband, will have a good man, Hallison tweaked Proverbs 18:22 to her liking.
"I guess neither one of you planned to knock. It's a good thing I saw both your cars from the window," Parke said as he opened his front door. As they crossed the threshold, Parke teased, "Since you're not arguing, does this mean you two kissed and made up?"
"She wouldn't let me," Malcolm said, pouting as he rubbed his hands together.
"You're still suffering from dry skin, bro?"
Malcolm glared at Parke as the two exchanged a silent message. Brothers and their antics. Hallison smiled. Something was happening. Hallison couldn't put her finger on it, but the air between her and Malcolm was changing. Peace had somehow replaced their storm.
"Well, Parke, you know your brother. He can't just stop at one kiss." Hallison shrugged and headed for the upstairs. While Parke claimed the sun porch as his private domain, a large sitting room off the master bedroom was often Cheney's hideaway.
"Yeah, Parke, Hali's like a bag of chips, and I can't eat just one."
Hallison hadn't taken two steps, when Malcolm called her name. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.
"Yes?"
"You were right. I was wrong." He walked away.
She wanted to cry at Malcolm's tender apology. There could be so many things she may have been right about, but she didn't ask. Her heart warmed. That was the Malcolm she knew. Blushing, Hallison nodded and continued upstairs.
Situated near French doors, Cheney sat reading a thin, paperback book. She looked up when Hallison knocked before entering. "Hey."
"Praise God no matter what, huh?" Cheney mustered a pathetic grin.
"Yeah, no matter what," Hallison repeated, coming closer and settling in a La-Z-Boy recliner. She lifted the book, Sleeping Angel: A True Story of a Mother of a Stillborn Baby.
"Imani picked it up at a bookstore in San Diego. Parke VII was my second angel."
"I know." Hallison could see the despair about to descend on Cheney. Clearing her throat, Hallison perked up. "What, San Diego? Is that the best your friend can do? How come she's not in Amsterdam or the Congo or someplace overseas?" she asked about Cheney's longtime flight attendant girlfriend.
"That's a long story." Cheney laughed. "Anyway, it's about time you visited your dear sister-girl who's an invalid. Daily calls don't count. I've been meaning to ask, how are the wedding plans going?"
"I haven't set a date, picked a dress, or shopped for china—per my mother."
Cheney leaned forward and squinted. "What's going on, Hali? You don't sound excited."
"I think I'm still in love with the man downstairs." Hallison couldn't meet Cheney's eyes.
Slowly sitting back, Cheney nodded and arched a brow.
"Really? Hali, don't take this the wrong way, but Parke ain't interested."
"I'm not talking about Parke. Malcolm's here, too. Somehow, we arrived at the same time."
"Oh," Cheney mumbled and sat back. She opened her book and suddenly found renewed interest.
"Oh? Is that all you have to say? Cheney, I'm having some serious multiple personalities going on right now. I need help. I need advice. I need prayer." Hallison closed her eyes.
"Malcolm is a man your heart will never forget. Accept it and get over it. Even after you and Trey celebrate your fiftieth wedding anniversary and have three-point-seven or something kids, you'll always love Malcolm."
Hallison frowned. "What kind of friend are you? You're not supposed to confirm what I just said. You're supposed to wave the notion away and say, 'oh, that's puppy love,' and the rest of that nonsense."
"You just said it for yourself. I'm not saying Trey isn't the one."
"What are you saying, oh wise one?"
"Absolutely nothing." Cheney went back to her book, flipping pages too fast for her to have read.
"God, what is going on with me? Why are my feelings for Malcolm resurrecting with a vengeance?"
Hallison's plan was to check on Cheney. The topic of Malcolm hadn't been on the agenda. Hallison sat quietly until Cheney began to talk about her angel baby—Parke VII. When Cheney ran out of words and tears, the two hugged and prayed. "I'm going to head home. Love you, sis." Again, Hallison chided herself about the simplicity of her love relationship issues compared to the life-altering events in her friends' lives.
"Thanks for coming." Cheney grabbed Hallison's hand before she walked out the room. "Pray, Hali. God wants His people to be happy."
"I know," Hallison whispered. Once downstairs, Hallison was almost at the front door, but Malcolm's husky voice stopped her again.
"If God told you that we belonged together, what would you do?"
Was Malcolm into mocking God? Hallison wouldn't even dignify the question with an answer. She reached for the door handle at the same time Malcolm closed the distance between them.
"Hali? What if God told you we belonged together? What would you do?"
She was becoming irritated with his stall tactics. "Malcolm," she said, keeping her tone even, "
this isn't about what if God told me. It's about what God told me."
"Woman, you always could be stubborn. I asked you if God told you that we belonged together, what would you do?"
Sighing, she whispered, "Then I would be with you, Malcolm."
His expression became unreadable as she prepared herself for a smirk or tease, but neither surfaced. Instead, he took her other hand. "How have you been Hali, really? I'm sorry I acted a fool over you."
"Your caveman style was corny, but flattering." She couldn't help but blush.
Malcolm let go of her hands. "C'mon. I'm leaving, too. Parke will figure I'm gone when I don't return from the little boy's room. I'd rather walk you out, make sure you're safe." He opened the door and let her go ahead.
She stepped off the porch. "Malcolm, it's daylight."
He frowned and looked up. "Hmm. Imagine that. What are the crime stats in this neighborhood, anyway?" He slowed his gait to match her steps.
"I heard that!" Parke yelled. "Goodbye, you two, and thanks for visiting." Laughing, Parke slammed his front door.
They smiled, and Malcolm waved without looking back. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Truth or dare, Hali?"
"I don't want to play any games, Malcolm. Family game night is over."
"Oh, I can play this one all by myself. The truth is I couldn't bear seeing you sitting alone without me in the Old Courthouse. The truth is I can look at you all day and never fall asleep. The truth is I had a problem with this Trey dude from the moment you smiled at him, and the last truth is, Hali, I can't shut off loving you. The next dare is I challenge myself to seek God for all His benefits."
Hallison unsuccessfully wiped at her tears. Once she could focus, she punched Malcolm in his shoulder. Her fist bounced off his bicep. He snickered.
"The only way you can hurt me, Hali, is to say yes at the altar to another man."
"Why did you wait for me to move on and become engaged to act a fool, or tell me this?" She balled her hands and stomped her heel in frustration.
Shrugging, Malcolm leaned in and kissed her on her cheek without permission. "I like drama I dare you to walk down that aisle with any other man besides me, Malcolm Jamieson. I will stop it. That's the truth. Dare me."
Monday, while lunching with Paula and Ursula, Hallison lost her appetite before she could take the first bite. She sighed. "I'm in love with Malcolm."
"What else is new? I'm getting a divorce," Ursula griped, without looking away from her food.
Dropping her fork, Paula didn't blink. She shifted and sucked in her breath before jabbing a manicured nail in the air. "Hold up. First, Ursula, you're always getting a divorce. Second, Hallison, Hali, or Miss Dinkins, I think I had temporary hearing loss. What did you say?"
"I'm in love with Malcolm," Hallison repeated, perplexed.
"That's what I thought you said. Do you suffer from multiple personalities? Were we not together a few weeks ago on a double date? You looked absolutely in love with Trey to me. Hali, I—"
"Girls, I'm really getting a divorce this time. Let me tell you what your nice, sweet friend, Anthony did. That man filed an EZ divorce on line. I don't know when, but yesterday when I got home from work, I was served papers on my doorstep," Ursula shouted, snatching back the attention.
Paula looked from Hallison to Ursula. She held up her finger to Hallison. "I'll get back to you later." Paula got out of her seat and wrapped her arms around Ursula as she slumped against Paula and cried.
Once Ursula composed herself, Paula snapped her head back to Hallison. "Don't think I'm finished with my inquisition."
"Yeah," Ursula muffled through a makeshift tissue, using a napkin.
"Humph! She's all right, Paula. Now, tell us what happened, Ursula," Hallison said.
Ursula strung her words together without taking a breath. "One minute we're talking about ordering Chinese food— you know that's my favorite with crab Rangoon and extra eggs—"
"I didn't ask you the ingredients in your fried rice. I'm talking about the divorce," Hallison insisted.
Straightening her body, Ursula jutted her chin. "In the middle of me talking about food, he said he wanted a divorce. His stupid reason was because I nagged him too much, even while I'm sleeping. I threw him those scriptures you had been trying to teach me, Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, commits adultery: and whoso marries her which is put away doth commit adultery."
"Matthew 19:9," Hallison recalled in awe.
"Yeah, I guess. See, I was listening." She twisted a sandy brown lock on her wig. "Anyway, I told him point blank, 'If you're sleeping with a woman or man, I'm suing her or him for breaking up my marriage.' Then it just slipped. I cursed him out without learning the truth. That made him mad."
Hallison ran her hands through her hair and shook her curls. "No, no, no, Ursula. You can't quote scriptures and curse him out in the same breath."
Ursula nodded and grabbed a sip from her cup. "I know, I know. You're right. I should've waited a few minutes. Do you know that man had the nerve to quote a scripture about it's better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, on the flat oriental roof, exposed to all kinds of weather than in a house shared with a nagging, quarrelsome, and fault-finding woman. I asked him where did he pick up that nonsense, and he said Proverbs 21, the Amplified version. Girl—"
"With all this scripture talking, you two should've resolved your issues," Paula suggested.
"I can quote them just by listening to you two. I didn't say I believe them. As of last night, we're sleeping in separate bedrooms. That way he can't hear me nag, which is probably good because he passes gas." Ursula picked up her fork and resumed eating her leftover fried rice as Paula and Cheney smothered their laughs.
Later, a few minutes before five o'clock, Samuel walked into Hallison's office without an appointment. He knocked, unlike Paula or Ursula. Hallison kept a blank expression while she admired the fine specimen God had created. Too bad it was going to waste with another man.
Hallison stood and pointed. "Have a seat, Samuel." She retook hers. "How's everything going in the IT department? Is there a problem?"
Relaxing in his chair, he teased his mustache with his finger. He stared at her and formulated his thoughts. "Hallison, I'm just going to lay my cards on the table."
She nodded and folded her hands. She didn't think Samuel was going to quit. He needed the job for health benefits, but his demeanor suggested it was something serious. She sighed and prepared herself for whatever might come next.
"I'm attracted to you," he said with nostrils flaring and chest heaving.
She blinked wildly while her heart missed a beat. God, what is going on with me and these men? "Samuel, I'm not a homosexual," were the first words out of her mouth. She wanted to laugh at the parody. Lord, please give me a hint what is happening in my life.
"That's why I'm drawn to you. It's something about you that makes me want to come out of the closet and be what God created me to be."
"Umm-hmm. What does your, your... ah... the other man, your partner, say about your change of heart?" This would be a good moment to testify or pray, but Hallison needed to get over the shock. She was to the point where she was playing eenie, meenie, miney, mo with Trey, Malcolm, and now Samuel?
Treat him as a lost sheep coming home. You are the light of the world, a city on the hill that can't be hidden. Show him the way, the Lord spoke to her spirit.
"He's devastated, but my attraction to you is getting stronger every day."
Hallison took a deep breath. Her spirit calmed, and her words were sure of the authority given to her. "Samuel, you're attracted to Jesus. That's the light you see in me. God's giving you strength to leave your sins behind. God's calling you to repentance. Salvation is free. Do you want it?"
Samuel nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."
"Good." Hallison smiled as her heart pumped wildly at the unexpected turn of events. She reached across her desk for his hands. "Let's pr
ay right now. Afterward, if you want to get baptized, I'll call the church and ask them to warm the water." Without waiting for Samuel's response, Hallison closed her eyes. "Father God, in the name of Jesus, we come boldly to your throne of grace and mercy. We come baring our sins before you. Lord, Samuel's ready for a change. You've called him, and he's answering..."
Before Hallison could say, amen, Samuel said, "Let's go.”
Chapter Thirty-three
For one soul, Faith Miracle Church opened its doors.
When Samuel said, "Let's go," Hallison didn't hesitate to grab her car keys. With swiftness, she signed off her computer and offered to drive. During the car ride, Samuel revealed his tormented thoughts and lifestyle.
"I've had this uncontrollable appetite for men since I was a teenager. It's not as if I planned to be different. I thought I had the willpower to give up my urges, but the pull was too strong not to fall back into temptation, so I gave up and just lived with it."
"Sam, it sounds like God gave you over to a reprobate mind. He allowed you to be swallowed up in your own desires and lusts, and that's not limited to homosexuality. The Bible says we were all born in sin, but God doesn't expect us to continue in sin. Repentance is the only way to shed our sins."
Thirty-five minutes later, standing in the sanctuary, Hallison clutched her Bible as tears streamed down her cheeks. She was about to witness Samuel's new birth. The pool's water swished as all of Samuel Smith's six feet three inches descended down the steps. He had exchanged his suit and tie for a pair of white socks, pants, and a T-shirt. Following the directions of the minister, Samuel crossed his arms against his chest.
The minister raised his right hand and gripped the back of Samuel's T-shirt with his left. Within seconds, he baptized Samuel in the name of Jesus with His promise of the Holy Ghost. One hour later, at one minute past seven, God filled Samuel with the Holy Ghost. The tongues rumbled from his stomach, climbed up his throat, and exploded out his mouth like a volcanic eruption. Once Samuel stopped praising God and praying, he asked question after question until both the minister and Hallison were exhausted. Eventually, Hallison and the new convert left church after midnight.