by E. N. Joy
She wanted to right her wrong with Lynox so badly. But with the way things were going, she couldn’t figure out if God was putting her in a position to do so, or if Satan was up to his old tricks again.
“You have to believe me, Lynox, I really am sorry.” Deborah stood there on the verge of tears as she apologized to Lynox.
He sighed, closed his eyes, and then opened them again. “Deborah, I forgive you.”
Deborah exhaled. Yes, this is all God.
“I’m probably just being selfish about this entire situation. It’s clear that you’re worse off than I am. I mean, look at your car and look at mine.”
Deborah’s shoulders fell. “Cars?” Deborah snapped. “We’re talking about cars here?”
Lynox looked confused. “Well, yeah. What else would we be talking about? You just backed into a vehicle that cost more than some people’s homes.”
Deborah shook her head and quickly wiped her moist eyes. “Just forget it. Here . . .” She walked back to the driver’s door, sat in her seat, then reached over into her glove box and pulled out her insurance card. She then grabbed her purse, took out a scrap piece of paper and a pen, and transferred her insurance information onto the paper.
She got back out of her vehicle, and headed back toward Lynox. “There—take it.” She practically shoved her insurance information into Lynox’s chest. “I don’t even know why I bothered. Just have your insurance company contact mine. I’m sure they’ll take care of everything. Now if you don’t mind, would you please move your vehicle from behind mine?”
Lynox absolutely did not understand where Deborah’s little tirade was coming from. He’d known Deborah to be a strong, no-nonsense type of woman who was about her business. That’s what had attracted him to her. But he had no idea where this side of her was coming from. It was like he was missing something.
Lynox held the paper in his hand, looked down at it, and then looked at Deborah. “If this is the way you want to handle it, then that’s what I’ll do. I just thought you and I could work this out.”
Regretfully, Deborah replied, “You know what? I thought the same thing too. But it looks like I was wrong.” Deborah got in her car and watched as Lynox, looking confused as ever, got into his car and moved out of Deborah’s way. Now if only Satan would get out of her way, things would be just fine.
Chapter Five
It was times like this when Deborah wished Mother Doreen still lived in Malvonia. Even though Mother Doreen was just a phone call away, it wasn’t the same as having her confidant there right next to her to lay hands on her, and touch and agree and pray together about her situations.
“I could always call Pastor,” Deborah said to herself as she sat on the couch eating pizza, her encounter with Lynox still on her mind.
“Call Pastor.”
Until she heard the little voice of her two-year-old son mimicking her, Deborah had almost forgotten he was even there. She looked down beside her at his sauce-covered face, and smiled. She placed her half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box and scooted him over onto her lap.
“Why is Mommy sitting here driving herself crazy about a man when she’s got the perfect little man sitting right here next to her?”
“Perfect little man,” he repeated.
“You’re enough for Mommy to deal with. What makes her think she needs to add to the situation?” By this time, the two-year-old’s attention had turned to the animated movie on the television screen. But still, Deborah continued talking as if she were having a conversation with an adult.
“What do I need a silly old man for anyway? All it could possibly bring into our lives is drama. And right now, I don’t mind living a drama-free life. I don’t need no man, especially the likes of Lynox Chase, interrupting things. He’s too arrogant. Too cocky. There’s nothing wrong with being confident, but he sometimes goes a little overboard. The Bible says we shouldn’t think more highly of ourselves than we actually are.” She sighed. “Let’s just face it, kid; it would have taken nothing short of a miracle for me and Mr. Chase to ever get back together again anyway.”
The ringing doorbell was what finally tore Deborah away from the one-sided conversation with herself.
“Just a minute,” Deborah called out, placing her son back on the couch from her lap and then getting up.
It was early evening, but evening nonetheless. Walking over to the door, she had absolutely no idea who would be knocking at this hour without calling first. She hadn’t missed any church or church functions, so there was no way a New Day member was doing a drive-by to check on her. In a split second, suddenly Deborah was hopeful. Maybe it was Lynox. Never mind all that mess she’d just rambled on about not needing a man in her life. She’d only said those things to make herself feel better. She hadn’t meant them. Her mouth might have said them, but her heart had nothing to do with it. And God knew her heart.
Yes! That’s exactly who it was at her door. It was Lynox. He’d probably been staring at the piece of paper with her information on it all night, wanting to use it for something much more than just giving it to his insurance company. Deborah could only hope.
By the time Deborah made it to the door, she’d pumped herself up to believe that, without a doubt, Lynox was on the other side of that door. Who else could it be? she asked herself. God, you are still in the miracle business, Deborah thought as she anxiously asked, “Who is it?” when she really wanted to swing open that door and jump right into Lynox’s arms.
“Can you open up?” the male voice on the other side of the door replied.
It was a man’s voice. That was good.
“It’s the police.”
Not good.
“Thank you so much, ma’am. I really appreciate your cooperation,” the officer said as he tilted his hat and exited Deborah’s house.
“No problem, Officer—no problem at all.” Deborah closed the door behind the officer and then looked down at the citation in her hand. She then looked up to the ceiling. “Are you finished yet, God? Are you finished humiliating me?” she yelled, but then lowered her voice after realizing she might wake up her sleeping child.
Initially not knowing what the officer’s business was with her, she’d asked him if it was okay for her to take her son up to bed. The officer didn’t have a problem with it, so Deborah did just that. Upon returning to the living room was when she’d learned just why the officer had come to her home.
“Do you know a”—the officer read from some type of notepad—“a Mr. Lynox Chase?”
“I do. Of course I do. I just ran into him today,” Deborah replied.
“And that’s exactly why I’m here—the fact that you ran into him.” Deborah was still slightly clueless as to what the officer was getting at. “With your car, he says you backed up into his car.”
Now Deborah got it, but she couldn’t believe it. Had Lynox really called the cops on her after they agreed that they’d allow their insurance companies to handle things? “Well, I uh, did,” Deborah started with a stammer. “But we took care of everything. We decided that we would allow our insurance companies to take care of the matter.”
“Yeah, well, all I know is that I got a call about the accident and that I needed to come here to take a report. Get your side of the story.”
Deborah stood there feeling like a criminal. Like she’d been involved in a hit-and-run and now the cops had chased her down. She wrapped her arms around herself for security purposes. She felt so open, vulnerable. . . and guilty. “There is no side. I backed into him while I was pulling out of my parking spot.”
The officer began to jot things down on the notepad he’d pulled out. “And were there any damages that you noticed your car had done to Mr. Chase’s vehicle?”
“Well, yeah, there was a dent and a little paint. Nothing major. My car suffered the bulk of the damage. My car insurance rate is probably going to go up because of this.”
Unsympathetically and robotically, the officer jotted down something else
and then looked to Deborah. “Did anyone get hurt?”
Deborah paused. Why did it seem like she was referencing every other question to her and Lynox’s past relationship? Would she be lying if she told the officer that no one had gotten hurt? Obviously someone had gotten hurt: Lynox. She’d done a hit-and-run on him; backed right into his heart, left a ding, a little remnant of herself, and then ran off as if there had been no damage done. There had been damage, though, to both her and Lynox.
The entire time she was in Chile being kept by Elton while he “handled things with his wife,” Deborah couldn’t stop thinking about Lynox. She couldn’t stop thinking about whether she’d made a mistake by ending what she’d had with him in order to start something back up with Elton. But one of the main reasons she’d decided to leave Malvonia and board that plane in the first place was because, with all her and Elton’s fornicating on his short trip back to the States, she’d ended up pregnant.
She hadn’t been on birth-control pills because she had vowed to God that she would never have a need for the Pill as long as she was a single woman. She would never violate her temple again the way she’d done with Elton all those years ago when she’d aborted their growing, kicking, moving baby from inside her womb. She vowed to never put herself in such a devastating situation again. But those vows and promises had obviously been made in the heat of the moment: Sunday morning down at the church altar after high praises and a moving Word from God.
Just like with some other Christians come Sunday morning when the spirit was high, praise and worship were doing their thing, and the pastor was preaching the Word of God like there was no tomorrow, Deborah had made promises and commitments that at the time she felt like she could keep. But come Monday through Saturday, somehow that encounter with God had long been forgotten. All those promises and commitments were thrown out the window by using sayings like “God knows my heart” to make a person feel better.
A Sunday only Christian. That’s what Mother Doreen had once told Deborah that type of behavior described. “You know what I’m talking about, child,” Mother Doreen had said. “A Sunday only Christian is that person who is only a Christian come Sunday morning. But Monday through Saturday, they ain’t thinking about living righteous and holy or living according to God’s Word. It’s easy to be a Christian come Sunday morning. But what say you about the other days of the week?”
Had that been what Deborah was? A Sunday only Christian?
“Excuse me, ma’am.” The officer had interrupted Deborah’s thoughts. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Yes, yes,” Deborah said sadly.
“So was an ambulance called?”
Deborah didn’t respond. She just allowed her mind to roam off into its own thoughts again.
“Ms. Lewis, was an ambulance called?”
“Ambulance?” Deborah shook her head and snapped back out of her zone.
“Yes, you said someone got hurt. Was an ambulance called?”
Deborah stared at the officer for a moment with a puzzled look on her face before everything began to register. “Oh, that kind of hurt. Oh, no, no. No one was physically hurt. No, Officer, not at all. I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. No ambulance was called. No one was physically hurt.”
The officer shot Deborah a tight, concerned eye. “Hmmm. I see.” He went about erasing something then looked back up to Deborah. “Is there anything else you can think of that I might need to put in my report? Because I’m going to be honest with you, sounds like this is pretty much all your fault.”
“All my fault?” But I’m suffering some damage too here, Deborah thought. Once again her mind had traveled back to her and Lynox’s relationship versus the incident the officer was referencing. “I mean, is it really all my fault that Mr. Chase has God-awful bad timing? That he just popped up out of nowhere and wouldn’t go away? He was just there. What else was I supposed to do?” Deborah looked at the officer desperately for answers.
For the first time, the officer showed some emotion sympathetic toward Deborah. “Are you saying that Mr. Chase wasn’t just making his way by, that he was basically just sitting there idle?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Deborah said with plenty emotion as she began pacing and using her hands to emphasize her words. “How was I supposed to know he’d just pop up and wouldn’t go away?” Now she was talking about Elton. His timing, too, had been awful. He’d shown up right when God had made her over, fixed and cleaned her up, and she felt ready to present herself to a man. Not just any man, but Lynox. But like a thief in the night, Elton had sneaked in and claimed her as his—saying, doing, and promising all the right things. “What was I supposed to do? I had to go. I had to leave.”
If she hadn’t agreed to get on that plane with Elton she would have been left in Ohio to repeat history: pregnant by Elton while he ran off to play ball. She was not going to let that happen again. She couldn’t. She didn’t. “He tried to block me.” Lynox had tried to block her—keep her from leaving with Elton. He’d used his own heartfelt opinion and scripture, but Deborah went anyway.
“He was blocking you?” the officer questioned, now scribbling something down very quickly. “Now that changes things, Ms. Lewis. That changes things greatly.” He put the notepad away. “I’ll file this report and it should be available within the next forty-eight hours,” the officer had told her before thanking her for her cooperation and then leaving.
Looking upward, Deborah prayed the words to God, “Lord, if you’re not done making me feel like an idiot when it comes to Lynox, please give me a sign so I can at least be prepared for some more foolishness!” And on that note, Deborah stomped off to her bedroom to lay it down for the night, having no idea that she had asked God for a sign, and now she was about to receive it.
Chapter Six
It had been two days since the police had been to Deborah’s door, and over those past two days, Deborah had been simmering in heat. “I can’t believe that man called the police on me after we agreed to let our insurance companies handle everything,” she’d repeated more times than she could count.
The entire situation was taking over her thoughts; so much so that she was doing a crappy job on the book she was editing for a seasoned author who was paying her darn good money. In her spirit she knew she’d have to redo the last fifty pages she’d done, as it had not been her best work. Doing her best work meant being able to focus. And in all honesty, ever since picking up that flyer promoting Lynox’s book signing, she hadn’t been able to focus on anything but that man. But since actually seeing him in person, her loss of focus had been to the tenth power.
“What time will you be back to pick up little man?” Deborah’s mother asked as she took the boy from Deborah’s arms, then mumbled to the child, “Come to ya Ganny Ban Banny.”
Deborah smiled as Mrs. Lewis took her son from her arms. She smiled because he was smiling. His smile was the only thing that could break up and shatter anything negative that was building itself around Deborah. Whoever knew so much strength and power could be found in a child’s smile?
“Fute snack,” the little boy said to his granny, knowing she kept boxes and boxes of the fruity, gummy treats at her house just for him.
“I shouldn’t be too long, just an hour or so,” Deborah, still smiling, said as she rubbed her son’s chunky cheek.
“Just an hour?” Mrs. Lewis kissed her grandson on the forehead. “Ganny Ban Banny only gets an hour with her boy?” Mrs. Lewis made an exaggerated sad face, poking out her bottom lip. Her caramel-brown forehead wrinkled; otherwise, it was as smooth as a bowling ball. Deborah, knowing she was the spitting image of her mother, didn’t mind aging one bit, knowing she’d wear age as well as her mother did.
“Mom, you keep him almost every day. You see him all the time,” Deborah reminded her mother.
Even though Deborah worked from home, that was not an easy feat with a small child. Talk about not being able to focus and losing concentration; try attempting to
do that with a terrible two demanding so much time and attention. So several times a week for about two or three hours, Deborah’s mother would keep the boy for Deborah while she got caught up on her work from the days she’d gotten behind while the child was there.
“I know, but a grandmother can never see too much of her grandkids. And he’s my only one.” Deborah’s mother kissed the boy again.
“Hmm, you say that now.” Deborah sucked her teeth and twisted her lips. “Trust and believe, Mother, the time is coming when you’ll still love him to death, be glad that he comes over and visits, but be even more elated that he gets to go home.”
“Umm, umm.” She rubbed her nose against her grandson’s. “Never.”
“Anyway . . .” Deborah dropped to the floor the bag with the baby’s things in it. “I should only be an hour or so. What I have to do shouldn’t take long.” Shouldn’t take long at all, Deborah thought. All she had to do was go to the library, patiently wait for Lynox to finish up his reading, and then check him up and down, from left to right. Deborah knew she might never regain her focus if she didn’t confront Lynox.
She wasn’t sure if Lynox still lived in his same house. Besides, she was afraid if she showed up on his doorstep, he’d call the police and have her arrested for stalking or something. She didn’t put anything past the man at this point. So she visited his Web site he’d given her, and found his tour schedule. She made it a point to be at his next local event, which was at the library.
With the exception of the actual book release, most authors’ tour schedules started out of town; then they worked their way back home. Lynox’s three-month tour had wound down and now he was doing a lot of local signings and readings. The reading tonight was the last event listed on his calendar for now. So Deborah felt it was her last opportunity to do what she needed to do.