Practicing What You Preach

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “Then let’s go,” Angela said to both me and Gayle as she opened her door.

  We walked up to the front porch. There wasn’t a doorbell. Angela took charge even though Gayle was the oldest of us three. She opened the green-trimmed screen door and knocked on the main door. After a minute, she knocked again. Either no one was home or the person inside had peeked out, saw us standing there, and decided not to answer it.

  Angela knocked again, harder, in rapid succession. The door suddenly opened. A chain kept the door from opening any wider than a crack large enough to see through. “Yes?” the elderly woman said as she eyed us through the crack.

  “Hi. Yes. We’re looking for Arletha Brown,” Angela said.

  “Who is we?” the elderly woman asked.

  “My name is Angela Gabriel. This is Gayle Cane and Melissa Anderson.” Angela touched us as she spoke our names.

  “Sorry, but I don’t talk to Jehovah’s Witnesses. So y’all can take your literature and whatever else you’re trying to peddle and, in Jesus’ name, get off of my porch.”

  “Ma’am,” Angela said, speaking quickly before the woman could close the door in our faces. “We’re not Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

  “Then who are you?”

  Angela’s hands began to shake a little as she held them up. I took what she was doing as her way of letting this woman know we didn’t come to do her harm. “Ma’am, might you be Arletha Brown?”

  “Ms. Arletha”—I moved up around Angela so the woman could see me better—“I’m Melissa Anderson. I used to live up the street from here. I’m Ernestine Anderson’s child, Ms. Cora Belle’s grandchild.”

  I threw in my grandmother’s name because I remembered my grandmother had befriended or at least tried to befriend Arletha a few times, back when she lived with us. My grandmother had been looking for more people her age. They would speak on occasion when my grandmother saw her outside. They would chitchat if she caught her before Arletha spotted her and scurried back inside her house. Nothing much ever came of it. My grandmother said Arletha was a little more fanatic than she cared for when it came to religion. Eventually, my grandmother quit even bothering and just waved if she saw her.

  “You’re Cora’s grandchild?” the woman asked as she took the chain off the door and opened it. She looked me up and down, then said, “That you are. I see a little bit of Cora in you. Same bone structure, same nose.” She looked from me to Angela and Gayle as she seemed to size them up. “So, what can I do for y’all?”

  “Ms. Brown, would you mind if we came in for a minute?” Angela said.

  “That depends,” Arletha said. “Are you selling something? ’Cause if you are, I can tell you right now that I ain’t the least bit interested, so don’t bother wasting your time or mine.”

  “No, ma’am,” Angela said. “I can assure you we didn’t come here to sell you a thing. I promise, if you’ll give us just a few minutes of your time, I’ll explain everything.”

  Arletha motioned for us all to come in. I had never been inside her house before. It was spotless, everything in its place, with a real antiquelike feel to it. The couch and chairs in the living room still had plastic on them, the hard kind that when cracked could do some damage to a leg if you sat or moved the wrong way. The kind of plastic I thought everyone had gotten the memo about stating that it was no longer chic or cool to have on your living room furniture. I sat down. I was thankful—no detectable cracks.

  “The clock’s ticking,” Arletha said. “You might want to start your pitch right about now.”

  Gayle sat, not having said a word. She looked over at Angela, who sat down, pressed her lips together several times, then quietly and slowly exhaled.

  “My name is Angela Gabriel.”

  “That much I got when you were outside my door,” Arletha said.

  “Ms. Brown, my mother’s name was Rebecca. After my mother died, I was raised by my great-grandmother, Pearl Black Williams.” Angela took in another deep breath. “I have reason to believe you may be my grandmother,” she said, releasing that breath along with those words.

  All eyes were now fixed on Arletha.

  And that’s when I suddenly realized, that’s when it struck me…I had forgotten how to breathe. As much as I was trying to, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. Something we all do day in and day out without ever thinking about it. But as we sat there, eyes glued on Arletha, all I could hear my brain saying, at first calmly, was, “Breathe. Breathe.” Then in a more panicked tone, I heard my brain begin to scream, “Hurry up, girl. You need to breathe!”—then scream louder—“Breathe!”

  Chapter 11

  And whatsoever house ye enter into, there abide, and thence depart.

  —Luke 9:4

  Arletha sat there, not moving a muscle. She looked at Angela, then Gayle, and finally, she stared at me. “What did she say your name was again?” she asked, directing her question to Gayle.

  “I’m Gayle Cane.”

  “You were the one who called my house a few times a few months back, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “And I told you to stop harassing me, did I not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Yes, but nothing!” Arletha said with obvious anger lacing her voice. She stood up, then turned her attention to Angela. “Young lady, your minute is up,” she said, as she indicated we had officially worn out our welcome.

  Angela spoke in a hurried manner. “Ms. Brown, I don’t want anything from you. I’m merely searching for my grandmother, that’s all. Surely you can appreciate that. Her name was Arletha, just like yours. I hate to confess this, but I just learned this today. When my cousin, Gayle, here”—she looked over at Gayle and nodded—“came in for my wedding and told me. You see, even though I live here now, I’m originally from Asheville, North Carolina. My mother, Rebecca, died when I was only five. So I don’t remember a lot about her. Just the bits and pieces I have been able to hold on to.”

  Arletha shrugged. “I’m sorry to hear that. But none of this has anything to do with me.”

  “My great-grandmother who raised me, her name was Pearl, she died four years ago. I’m getting married on Saturday to this wonderful man. His name is Brent…Brent Underwood.” Angela spoke passionately. “I didn’t think it would mean so much to me since I had never known much about my grandmother, but when I learned today, for the very first time, my grandmother’s name—”

  “You’d never known your grandmother’s name before today?” Arletha asked.

  “No. My great-grandmother never talked about her daughter, at least not around me. And the other family members didn’t either. I don’t know what that was all about, I don’t know what happened, but that’s how things were. No one talked about it. Ever.”

  Arletha shrugged her shoulders a few times. “Sounds messed up, if you ask me. In fact, it sounds like your family pretty much disowned her. I’m sorry for what you have probably lost in all of this, and I’m also sorry that I can’t help you.”

  “So are you saying you never lived in Asheville, North Carolina? That there is no way you could even remotely be my grandmother?” Angela asked. She looked directly into Arletha’s eyes as she stood close to her.

  “I’m saying that I wish I could help you, seeing as you seem to be a nice young lady, a very pretty young lady at that. But my advice to you is to have a wonderful wedding and to forget about this nonsense of finding some grandmother that may or may not still be alive and may or may not want to be found,” Arletha said. “That’s just my opinion. I’ve been on this earth a long time, and I can tell you that this world brings you enough trouble without you going out looking for it unnecessarily.”

  “But it’s not trouble I’m searching for right now. I’m looking for family. And if that’s you, then I want you to know that I love you. I truly do. No, I didn’t grow up knowing my grandmother, but if you are my grandmother, I love you.”

  Angela began to cry as she spoke. “I don’t have a mo
ther to sit on my side of the aisle for my wedding. And yes, when I heard my grandmother might still be alive, of course I was going to stop whatever I was doing and go look for her. And when I learned there was a possibility the woman I seek might be you, of course I was going to come over and do all I could to see you, to talk with you. I promise I don’t want anything from you. But there’s something I can’t explain and don’t quite understand myself about knowing that your own blood is out there somewhere that causes a person to want to find them.” Angela broke down. I reached in my purse and handed her my packet of tissues.

  “I never fully appreciated why, when it came to adopted children who are raised in loving families, they still feel a need to locate that missing parent,” Angela continued. “But for some reason that I can’t explain, you have this burning need, a desire to connect. You want to look into the eyes of where you came from. In some ways, you feel it will possibly help you find yourself. It’s hard to put what I feel into words.”

  Gayle hugged Angela. “Ms. Brown. I’m Angel’s second cousin. My grandmother, Pearl, Angel’s great-grandmother, asked me to do this for her right before she died. She asked me to try and find her daughter Arletha. At the very end of her life, she wanted Angel to know her grandmother, if by God’s grace she happened to still be alive.”

  Gayle’s voice became softer. “If there’s even the smallest chance you are Angel’s grandmother, please do the right thing. Please do whatever you can. And if you’re not sure, for whatever reason, please—”

  “What do you think? That I have amnesia? I’m in stages of dementia, Alzheimer’s or something where I don’t remember whether I had a child or not? You think I don’t know who I am? Who my own mother was? Where I came from?” Arletha asked.

  “No. I’m just saying we can do a DNA test and put this to rest for all concerned,” Gayle said. “It’s a pretty simple procedure to administer. They swab the inside of your cheek with a Q-tip, send it to a lab equipped to handle DNA tests, and it will tell us once and for all whether you are any kin to Angel…and to me.”

  “And what are you supposed to be, some kind of DNA specialist?” Arletha asked as she stared at Gayle, who had moved even closer to Angela.

  “No. I’m a nurse.”

  “Well, as I’ve already stated, I do feel for you, young lady,” Arletha said, directing her attention back to Angela. She led us out of the room. “I’m sure you’re going to have a lovely wedding. My advice to you—and you can take it for what it’s worth or not—is to forget about what you don’t have and learn to concentrate on and appreciate what you do. I’m sure your husband-to-be doesn’t want or need all this drama.” Arletha opened the front door and held it as she waited for us to leave.

  Angela took out her business card, turned it over, and wrote her home address on the back. “Here is my card with all of my contact information on it, including my cell number.” Angela handed the card to her. “If you need anything, anything at all, or if something comes up, will you please get in touch with me?”

  Arletha shrugged as she took the card. “I’ll take your card, but I don’t know anything more I can do for you. I can’t make it any plainer than that.”

  Angela looked at Arletha one last time. She stepped outside, then smiled. “Thank you for your time. We didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Arletha said as though she didn’t really believe that. Suddenly, her countenance began to soften a tad. “And whether you believe this or not, I am sorry things didn’t work out for you. I’m not totally unsympathetic to your plight. And for the record, if I really were your grandmother, I’d be proud to have you as a granddaughter.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” Angela put on her shades. “But I’ll keep praying, and we’ll see what God does next. I know that His ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts. And like Great-granny always told me: there’s nothing too hard for our God.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir now. Especially when you start talking about God,” Arletha said. “You just need to let God be God and start actually practicing what you preach. And if it’s God’s will, you’ll locate your grandmother, one way or another.”

  Angela thanked Arletha for her time, apologized again for showing up the way we had, and said good-bye. A little bit despondent, we got back in the car.

  “Well, you gave it your best shot,” Gayle said, patting Angela on her shoulder.

  “Yeah. You followed up, and it turns out she’s not the one you were looking for,” I said.

  Angela took off her shades. “Oh, y’all both think so?” She started backing out of the driveway. “That Arletha we just met, Arletha Brown, that’s my grandmother.” Putting the car in drive, Angela turned her head back and looked at Gayle. “Didn’t you see all of those little moles on her face and neck? Those are Black moles,” Angela said, facing forward, while alternating between looking at the road ahead and back at Gayle.

  “Black moles? Okay, so her moles were black,” Gayle said.

  “No, they were Black moles as in Pearl Black. Her oval-shaped face was Great-granny’s face if I ever saw it. I’ve seen pictures of Great-granny when she was in her sixties. I see the resemblance. That’s how Great-granny looked before she got older.”

  “Angel, okay now. Be reasonable. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you about this. That’s what I get for listening to somebody else,” Gayle said.

  “I am being reasonable. And for the last time, you were right to tell me, and you were right on time to tell me now,” Angela said. “But don’t worry. I’m not planning on letting any of this interfere with my wedding. Brent deserves more than that from me. I say that I trust God. I say that God will make a way out of no way. I say that my God will supply all of my needs according to His riches in glory. Well, Arletha Brown was absolutely correct earlier when she said I need to start practicing what I preach.”

  Angela stopped at a red light and looked over at me. She grinned. “Melissa, when we get back, I need to put one more invitation to my wedding in the mail, pronto.”

  “Dare I even guess to whom?” I asked.

  She smiled. “You’re guessing correctly. I’m sending one to Ms. Arletha Brown.”

  “She’s not going to come,” Gayle said with a tone of force along with a touch of weariness in her voice.

  “Oh, she’s going to come. I just have a feeling that if I invite her, Ms. Arletha Brown will come.”

  Chapter 12

  A gracious woman retaineth honor: and strong men retain riches.

  —Proverbs 11:16

  I was too happy that after Angela put an invitation in the mail to Arletha, she got back on track for the wedding. I was also glad Gayle was around. Angela convinced Gayle to check out of her hotel and stay with her. All of us went to Bible study Wednesday night. Neither Angela nor I was planning on missing the final installment of Pastor Landris’s teaching on “Who we are in Christ.” Gayle loved it so much she bought the other lessons in that series.

  Gayle has a great sense of humor and wonderful comedic timing. She could say something that wasn’t supposed to be funny, and we would end up laughing just because of how she said it. She had us laughing so much Thursday night that I suggested she look into stand-up comedy. Angela and I both threatened her and told her not to say another word for fear that we would never finish from laughing so hard.

  “Like my grandmother would say, you are a hoot a minute,” I said.

  “A hoot?” Gayle said as she laughed at the word. “What in the world is a hoot?”

  “It means you’re really funny. You crack me up,” I said.

  Angela had ordered the programs for her wedding. She had wanted to handle that part, so I had no input whatsoever. Gayle helped us so much on Thursday.

  The bulk of the family members arrived Friday morning, with the rest Friday afternoon. The rehearsal dinner included both of the families as well as the wedding party and their families. I asked Nae-nae to help me out for both the rehears
al dinner and the reception. She needed some extra cash and I was in a position to throw some her way.

  Even though Nae-nae has borrowed money from me that she has yet to pay back, and she owes me for all of the little “favors” I’ve done for her, I still wanted to be a blessing to her by offering her the opportunity. She would be paid pretty well for the two nights. I was still left to wonder, though, how people can borrow money from someone, remember that you said they could get it, but can’t seem to remember they haven’t paid you back.

  Nevertheless, Nae-nae is my friend. And she has a good heart. If anyone knows her situation, I do. She has children, I don’t. Enough said.

  One good thing going for me with this wedding was how much Angela had already done. She only hired me after she’d gotten it going and decided she could use some help. My friend Tiffany Connors was the one who told her about me. How I had done an outstanding job planning another wedding (it was small, but it turned out so well), and that she should seriously give me a call. Angela did, and here I am.

  Knowing Tiffany the way I do, I’m sure she knew this would be the big boost I needed to get my name out there in a big way. I love that Tiffany.

  I mainly worked on the staging and decorating aspects of the wedding. Angela hired a caterer for the rehearsal dinner being held at the church’s fellowship hall and for the reception to be held at Ross Bridge, an upscale golf course, for the well-to-do community. I took care of all the other necessary details. Angela handled the wedding party details and anything that needed to be printed.