Angela was going to hire a director, but I told her I was great at multitasking. “Consider me your one-stop shopping,” I said. “We can bundle my duties.”
She knew exactly what she wanted to happen at the wedding. I was to shadow the rehearsal along with her so I could execute everything during the wedding just the way she wanted it.
So when everyone arrived for the rehearsal, I had received my stage direction script from Angela on how the entire wedding, from start to finish, would proceed—from the number of groomsmen lighting candles, to how many groomsmen would stand with the groom, to how many bridesmaids and junior bridesmaids there would be. And of course, the customary ring bearer and flower girl duties. There were only initials or the first name of who was to do what and when—Angela’s shorthand to herself. That’s probably why I was shocked when I looked up and saw Marcus standing before me.
“So are you not going to speak?” Marcus asked. “I said hello.”
I shook my head to show him just how busy I was. “Oh, I’m sorry. Hi.” I began to fumble with the paper I held in my hand so he could see what I’d been busy doing when he walked up. “It’s really jumping around here,” I said. “I didn’t see you at first. I’m so focused, trying to make sure I know what’s going on and staying on top of things.”
Marcus glanced around the room. There were a lot of people at the rehearsal. “Yes, I see,” he said. “This is going to be really nice. So, this is the wedding you were working on?”
I looked around the room again, not because I hadn’t already, but to make sure when I spoke my voice didn’t crack. “Yes. The one and only.” I looked down at the paper again to see how I had managed not to know Marcus would be part of this wedding. That’s when I saw MP beside Best Man. “So, you’re the best man, huh?”
He leaned over and looked on my paper. Tapping the top of the paper, he said, “Yep. That’s me right there.”
I happened to finally look down and saw Marcus holding the hand of a little girl. Her jet-black wavy hair was pulled up into a ponytail. She was so pretty. And when I looked into her face, there was no mistaking who her father was. She was the spitting image of Marcus.
“Well, hello there,” I said, bending over slightly as I spoke. “Aren’t you the prettiest thing? What’s your name?”
She looked up at her daddy. He nodded. She smiled and looked back at me. “Aaliyah Peeples.”
I stood up straight. “Aaliyah? What a beautiful name for such a beautiful little girl. So Aaliyah, how old are you?”
“Five,” she said as she held up her hand showing me all five of her fingers spread wide.
“Wow, five. Well, you sure are pretty.”
“Say thank you,” Marcus said as he looked down at her with such love and admiration even I could feel it.
“Thank you,” Aaliyah said. She began to twist the way most little girls do.
“Marcus, hey man! I’m so glad you made it,” Brent Underwood said as he walked up to Marcus and gave him some dap first, then a manly hug where they merely bumped shoulders. “I was starting to get a little worried about you. Thinking maybe you’d gotten cold feet on me or something.”
“Me? Get cold feet? You’re the one who’s getting married tomorrow. I’ll just be standing there with you to give you moral support,” Marcus said. “Not that you’ll need it. You’re marrying a jewel and a truly virtuous woman, from everything I’ve seen of her.”
“Well, I know how seriously you take marriage. I’m just sorry things turned out like they did for you,” Brent said as he looked down at Aaliyah. He touched Aaliyah’s chin. “Well, hi there, little princess. You’re hanging out with Daddy tonight, huh?”
Aaliyah hugged Brent. “Yes! But what are you doing here?”
“I’m here because I’m getting married tomorrow to a beautiful angel, and we have to practice to make certain it’s a beautiful day. We want to be sure we do it right. You know how you practice your ballet dancing?”
Aaliyah nodded. “I practiced yesterday, but I didn’t get to practice today.”
“Just like you practice your ballet to make sure it’s great, we’re going to practice what to do for the wedding tomorrow so we can be great like you,” Brent said.
“So are you really marrying an angel, Uncle Brent? A real angel? With wings?”
Brent smiled. He wasn’t really her uncle, just what Marcus had her call him. “Well, not a real angel the way you’re probably thinking. She’s more like an angel in disguise. She doesn’t have wings, but she reminds me of an angel.”
“Oh,” Aaliyah said, disappointed.
Angela came rushing up. “Marcus, I’m glad you made it.” She kissed him on his cheek when he leaned down to hug her. “There’s always something, always something,” Angela said, turning to Brent. “Why can’t things ever go off without a hitch?”
“What’s wrong?” Brent asked.
“It’s the flower girl. She can’t make it. She fell off the swing today at day care. Her mother took her to the doctor and they said she sprang her arm,” Angela said.
“That’s good it was just a sprang,” I said, remembering the time I broke my arm when I was younger, and I fell out of that tree. Pretty is as pretty does, Grandma said. Climbing a tree to throw stuff at your brother was not pretty. I told you: God don’t like ugly. You’d better be glad all you did this time was break your arm.
“Yes, I’m thankful that was all it turned out to be. But now I don’t have a flower girl for tomorrow. I’m trying to think what we can do.”
“Aaliyah can do it,” Marcus said. He squatted down to her height. “Sweetheart, how would you like to be in Uncle Brent’s wedding?”
“You mean the wedding Uncle Brent says he’s having with the angel?” Aaliyah said. Everybody laughed. Angela looked at Brent and smiled.
“Yes, that one,” Marcus said.
Brent chimed in. “I would really love it if you’d be our flower girl.”
“Are you the angel?” Aaliyah asked Angela.
Angela tried to keep from laughing but she wasn’t doing a great job of it. “My name is Angela, but they call me Angel for short.”
“No,” Aaliyah said, shaking her head. “Uncle Brent says he’s marrying an angel, only she doesn’t have wings like the angels I’ve seen on a shelf at my grandma’s house.”
“Yes,” Brent said. “This is the angel I was talking about. So what do you say about being our flower girl? Do you think you can throw flower petals in the aisle before my angel comes down it tomorrow? Will you do that for us?”
“Of course I can do that. I’ve done that before so I’m pretty good at it.” Aaliyah placed her little hand on her hip and tilted her head to one side as she grinned. “I guess you can say I’ve practiced already, so it’s no problem, Uncle Brent. I’ll be happy,” she threw her head back, “to do that for you and your angel, even if she doesn’t have wings.”
Everybody laughed again. I stood in awe of how smart this little five-year-old happened to be. Marcus seemed to practically beam around her. He rubbed her hair as she stood close. There was no doubt, he loved his little girl.
Angela took Aaliyah by the hand to give her the basket she would practice with. Brent and Marcus stayed close to where I was. They spoke as though no one was there.
“I thought you said this wasn’t your weekend to keep Aaliyah?” Brent said.
“It’s not. But you know Sasha. She called yet again with an emergency. Besides, I don’t have a problem keeping my daughter, you know that. As it turns out, looks like it was a good thing, a blessing, really, that she was here. She’s going to be the flower girl.”
“Oh, there’s no question about how much you enjoy having her,” Brent said. “And I know you would like nothing better than to have that little girl with you all the time. I was just wondering what happened with Sasha, since it seems lately this is becoming the norm. So, what did she say was the emergency this time?”
“She didn’t. Just that it was an emerge
ncy, and she needed me to keep Aaliyah.”
“You’re going to have to stop reinforcing Sasha’s bad behavior, Marcus,” Brent said. “She does this to you because she knows she can. And you just keep letting her get away with it.”
“I hear you, Brent. But if I didn’t get Aaliyah, Sasha would just dump her off on anybody she could get to take her. I don’t want my child being passed off to anybody and everybody. She’s at an impressionable age. And some of Sasha’s associations are at the bottom of the barrel. Cousins sleeping with everybody while exposing those children to their reckless behavior. Having all kinds of men hanging around their place—perverts and whatnots. And I’m going to be frank with you, Brent. If anyone touches my child in an inappropriate way or something happens to her, preacher or not, I’m not sure what I might do. Lord, forgive me, but I really don’t know. And I don’t ever want to find out.”
Brent leaned in. “Marcus, don’t go there. Don’t get yourself worked up about this. Sasha does this to you every time. That girl still knows how to push your buttons.”
“I know. I know,” Marcus said as he nodded. “I know the Bible tells us to forgive, and Lord knows, when it comes to Sasha I’ve bent over backward to do it. But my little girl is counting on us adults to love and protect her. I’m her father, and yes, I am a minister, too. But lately with Sasha and all that she’s taken me through and truthfully still takes me through every chance she gets, it can be hard to actually practice what you preach. ‘Turn the other cheek. Go the extra mile.’ Talk about praying without ceasing.”
Marcus clapped his hands, shook his head, then began to roll his shoulders as though he were trying to shake something loose. “Listen, I’m sorry I went there,” Marcus said. “I just needed to vent, I guess. I’m sorry, Lord. I’m sorry, Brent. Please forgive me.”
“It’s all right. You know I got nothing but love for you,” Brent said. “You and I have been friends since college. I know the real deal. If you needed to get that off of you, that’s fine. Now, let’s have a word of prayer, Mister Preacher Man. Just me and you.”
Marcus smiled and nodded. They bowed their heads and Marcus prayed. I closed my eyes, too. When he finished, I found myself wiping tears from my eyes. I had no idea Marcus was a minister. And I sure didn’t know he could pray like that.
Chapter 13
And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.
—Colossians 3:17
The wedding went off beautifully without too much drama. Anyone who has ever been part of a wedding knows there will always be a few snafus, even if the guests never know it. Pastor Landris officiated at the ceremony. There were so many people crying tears of joy. It was something to see.
Of course, Nae-nae didn’t show up to help me like she promised, so that left me more than a little stressed at first. But true to form, Pastor Landris’s wife, Johnnie Mae Taylor Landris, and about three other members of the church stepped up in true servants’ fashion and offered their services. They helped out with whatever they were asked to do and wherever they were needed. I learned a valuable lesson from this: hire wisely or you’ll pay for it later.
I must admit that I’m always in awe of how someone like Johnnie Mae Taylor, the name she continues to use on her books as an author, can be so down-to-earth. I know some folks who wouldn’t dare serve others because they think they’re above them. If I were the wife of a famous pastor and world renowned for my own books (I hear one of hers has been optioned for a movie), you wouldn’t find me asking anyone if I could help them. I don’t care if I saw them pulling their hair out; I would be sitting around waiting for people to take care of me. But not Johnnie Mae.
She has the cutest little girl named Princess Rose and a little baby boy named Isaiah. It was touch-and-go there for a while with little Isaiah. There was concern back in the summer over whether he and his mother were going to make it. But it just goes to show what the Bible says: “The prayers of the righteous availeth much.” And there was definitely some fervent praying going from June through August before mother and child came home from the hospital.
Then the pastor’s mother passed away, and that was hard. I wasn’t sure how Pastor Landris could take so much happening, one thing after another. He and his family were definitely under spiritual attack. But Pastor Landris has often said that his trust in the Lord is not based on what’s happening around him.
“If the world falls down around me, I’m still going to trust God and His Word,” Pastor Landris has said many times. “I don’t serve God for what He’s going to do. If He doesn’t ever do another thing for me for the rest of my life, I’m going to be right here praising Him. You see, I don’t praise God only for what He does. I praise God for who He is.” These past months especially, his words had definitely been put to the test.
After the ceremony, Angela and Brent, along with the rest of the wedding party, were taking pictures for the wedding album. I was on my way out of the sanctuary to get over to the reception hall at Ross Bridge before the wedding party got there. The caterers were taking care of the food setup, so that was good. The reception hall was beautifully decorated. All I needed to do was to make sure that nothing had been overlooked. As I was on my way out, I stopped in my tracks.
Sitting in a seat at the back of the sanctuary was none other than Arletha Brown. Dressed in a lovely chiffon baby-blue gown, I almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair was freshly curled. And for one who I’d heard, from people she went to church with, never wore makeup, she had on wine-colored lipstick.
“Ms. Arletha?” I asked with a smile. “I thought that was you. It’s good to see you again.”
She looked over at me and did not seem impressed that I had recognized her.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” she asked.
“I’m Melissa Anderson.” By the look on her face, my name did not ring a bell.
“I came to your house on Wednesday. I’m Cora’s granddaughter,” I added, deciding to skip the family line and go straight to the one she’d originally had a favorable reaction to.
“Oh yes. Now I remember you.”
I was wrestling with how to ask her what was she doing here. I knew enough about Arletha Brown to know that she had a sharp tongue and wouldn’t hesitate to use it if asked what she considered to be a dumb question. I knew we had sent her an invitation to the wedding. But honestly, I didn’t think she would actually come.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said again, still debating.
“I was invited,” she said as though she were reading my mind. “I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I thought I would come see what all the hoopla was about. Besides, I’ve had this dress hanging up in my closet for years now. This was as good an excuse as any to wear it.”
I was relieved she had been the one to break the ice. “Well, we’re glad you made it. I thought everything turned out beautifully.” I waited to see if she had anything to say. She merely sat there with her lips buttoned tightly. “Have you had a chance to say hello to the bride yet?” I asked.
“Now, why would I do that?” Arletha said almost frowning, or maybe that was just the way she always looks. She certainly was a bitter woman.
“I was just thinking how much she would love to know that you came.”
“From the number of people here, I doubt very seriously she would care if one more person was in attendance or not. It’s like I said, I got an invitation. I wasn’t doing anything today. So I came. I almost didn’t recognize the pastor, though. I see he finally got rid of those dread whatever they call them. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.”
I didn’t know what that comment was all about. There was nothing wrong with Pastor Landris when he wore dreadlocks, and there was nothing wrong when he decided to cut them off. I was starting to feel sorry for her. I could see now, this woman was really hurting. I thought back to Marcus’s prayer the evening before. He prayed for people to be more understa
nding of one another, to be more compassionate, more like the Lord, loving without conditions. I would have preferred that Arletha not be so nasty and negative about everything. But I knew I needed to love her where she was right now. I had to be the bigger person. I had to be Christlike, which is what a real Christian is.
“Ms. Arletha, if you don’t mind my saying this, I know Angela would be so excited knowing that you came. If you don’t mind, I’d love to take you up there and let her know you’re here.”
“Why?” Arletha said. “Why is my being here such a big deal to you or to her? I’m not who she thinks I am, and your insisting that I let her know I’m here is just plain being messy, if you want to know what I really think about it.” She stood up and grabbed her rather large black pocketbook.
I wanted to ask her if what Angela thought wasn’t true, then why had she stayed long after the wedding was over. But I knew antagonizing someone like Arletha wouldn’t garner much toward the desired goal. “Ms. Arletha, I just know what a great heart Angela has, and I know how much she appreciates everyone who took the time to come share this day with them. I understand it may not be that big a deal to you, but it would mean the world to her. Just knowing that you came would mean you weren’t offended by our visit the other day.”
Arletha turned back toward me. “I’ll speak to her at the receiving line at the reception. They are planning on having a receiving line, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Good. That’s the only reason I was sitting back here, just in case you were wondering,” Arletha said. “I was planning on going to the reception. I didn’t want to get there too early and have to sit and wait, having folks trying to talk to me and carry on a conversation when it’s obvious I don’t want to be bothered. Sort of like now, when I was sitting here minding my own business before you came up.”
She took a few steps, then turned around once more. “You helped put together this wedding?” she asked.
Practicing What You Preach Page 8