Practicing What You Preach

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Then I was going to call you on Monday, but that meant it had been over a week and I would need to try and explain why it had taken me so long. The cycle seemed to begin all over again with different situations popping up here and there, always someone needing something.

  I could have called and told him all of that, but I didn’t. He frequently came to the doctor’s office where I worked. I decided I would talk to him then. Funny, I hadn’t asked him in all the time we’d spoken what he did that required him to visit with Dr. Brewer so often. I hate getting too deep into other folks’ business. I figure if they want you to know, they’ll tell you. I knew he had a job. That’s all that mattered. Because the Bible says if a man doesn’t work, he shouldn’t eat. Quite a few people I know must not have gotten that e-mail. They have all kinds of men hanging around who won’t strike a lick at a stick, and they eat very well.

  I had one boyfriend who tried that with me. He must have looked at me and thought I was truly desperate for a man. He had to have thought that because he sure tried that not working thing, I guess thinking he was going to sponge off me. “Can I hold fifty dollars until the end of the week?” How are you going to pay me back if you don’t have a job? No way. I’m not falling for that trick. Fifty here, twenty there. The next thing you know, they owe you hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars with no intention of ever paying you back. Nickel and diming you so often, you don’t even realize how much the final tally is.

  But I was certain Marcus did something for a living. A week passed and he didn’t come. Now it had been two weeks since we talked, and I was beginning to think I just needed to call him before I really messed up and made him think I still wasn’t interested. I would hate to lose out on getting to know him better just because I miscalculated. But then, I do believe whatever God has for me is for me.

  However, I also know that we have to do our part. Marcus had gone above and beyond. He had let me know he was interested in me. He had learned of my concerns regarding his divorce and my wrestling with the scriptures regarding that. He had given me the space not to feel pressured. And I was seemingly messing it up even though I knew now that I really wanted to see where this could lead. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t come to Dr. Brewer’s office yet. Then I looked up from my desk the following week on Thursday, and there he stood.

  He was dressed down a little more than usual, wearing just a stylish shirt instead of his usual suit and tie. And he wasn’t wearing his glasses. My heart began to pound faster as I tried to act normal. Yes, I really liked this guy.

  “Hi,” Marcus said, very businesslike.

  “Hi,” I said back, hoping that my voice hadn’t betrayed my pounding heart even with that one-syllable word.

  “Dr. Brewer is expecting me.” He then went and sat down.

  I sat there in shock. That was it? He didn’t ask how I was. He didn’t chitchat. Just announced himself politely, stated his purpose for being there, then went and sat down. I put my hand over my heart and breathed in deeply. Maybe he thought I had played too hard to get. Maybe he believed there was no point in pursuing me further. Maybe he had decided I wasn’t what he wanted after all.

  That’s the way my life seemed to work anyway. I would meet a guy who seemed interested. He would talk to me for a few days, then it was like he’d concluded I wasn’t that interesting after all. But Marcus seemed different. He had called me out over two months ago. How I was making other guys pay for some of my bad past relationships. He had been right.

  I let Dr. Brewer know he was here. Dr. Brewer came out immediately, which was what he always did, and personally invited Marcus back to his office. I still didn’t understand why Dr. Brewer seemed to bend over backward to be nice to Marcus. But maybe whatever Marcus was selling was something he felt he needed or was at least interested in hearing about. Suddenly, I realized just how much I wanted to know what Marcus did for a living. But he hadn’t said anything to me today other than to speak. I had to figure out how to get a conversation going with him again.

  When Marcus came out of Dr. Brewer’s office, Dr. Brewer was laughing and patting Marcus on the back. I could see how much Dr. Brewer genuinely respected Marcus. Marcus walked by my desk. I thought for sure he would stop by and chat for a second the way he normally did when he left Dr. Brewer. But this time, he just waved and walked through the door that led back out to the waiting room. I was shocked. I got up and trotted after him.

  “Marcus, hold up a second,” I said. There was no one in the waiting room, as Marcus generally arrived before regular office hours began.

  Marcus stopped.

  I didn’t know what I would say to him but I knew I had to say something. “I have been meaning to call you,” I said.

  “Oh, really,” he said. It was hard to read what he might be thinking.

  I forged ahead. “It’s been so hectic around my place. A couple of my friends needed someone to help them out with their children, so of course I did what I could.”

  “Yeah, you’re great with children. Children know when you’re sincere and when you’re faking it. Aaliyah really likes you,” he said.

  “Here’s the thing. I wanted to let you know how much your Bible teaching helped me that day you came over. You know, the one on divorce. Anyway, I was thinking maybe you and I could talk some more sometime. That’s if you’re still interested.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.” He seemed a bit unlike his usual self.

  “Are you okay? Is everything all right?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Just life. You know how that is. Always something going on.” He didn’t elaborate further.

  I was hoping he would take over the reins and guide this effort toward a date between us, but he didn’t. I suppose that’s what I got for having taken so long. Maybe he had lost his passion to get to know me better. Maybe I should have taken the hint and saved myself the trouble. Preemptive strike—protect my heart from being hurt.

  “Why don’t I call you later,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you up. Sure, you can call me later. You still have my number?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I’ll call you tonight.” He left in a rush.

  I suddenly knew how he must have felt when he was trying to talk to me and I didn’t seem to be all there. It was not a good feeling.

  Chapter 25

  Then hear thou from the heavens their prayer and their supplication, and maintain their cause.

  —2 Chronicles 6:35

  Angela called me. She and Brent had returned from their two-week-long honeymoon to the Bahamas and they spent a week at home as newlyweds. She wanted to thank me again for all the work I’d done toward making their wedding day one they would never forget.

  “Did you happen to see Arletha Brown there?” Angela asked after we had rehashed many of the most memorable moments of the wedding and reception.

  I didn’t know quite how I should answer that question. I knew what her cousin Gayle had said when it came to Arletha Brown. She didn’t believe she was the Arletha they were looking for. I certainly didn’t want to do or say anything to encourage Angela, but I wasn’t going to lie either.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why didn’t someone say something to me? She was there and you and Gayle both saw her and neither of you said a word to me?”

  “Angel,” I said, “there was no reason to put a damper on such a lovely and spiritual occasion. It was your wedding—”

  “Which is precisely why one of you should have said something,” Angela said. “We were taking pictures, and yes, I had family members there, but Arletha was there, too. Maybe, just maybe, she would have come clean. You know, as her gift to me during that time. And while Brent’s grandmother stood with us having her photo taken, I could have had my grandmother up there with us.”

  “Angela, personally I don’t believe Arletha is your grandmother.”

  “I know that’s what she said, but I just have a feeling she
wasn’t leveling with us. Why else would she come to a wedding on such short notice, a wedding for someone she’d just met, unless there was some connection there?” Angela paused for a few seconds. “You really think I’m wrong about this, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Yeah, well, Gayle does, too. She says I want this so badly, I’m spinning things way out of proportion. I’m a little out of control. She says I need to stop this.”

  “I know it would mean a lot to you to find your grandmother, but I agree with Gayle,” I said.

  “So why do you think Arletha Brown came to my wedding?”

  “When I spoke with her—”

  “You talked to her?” Angela asked, shock practically oozing through the phone.

  I placed my hand up to my head and patted my forehead a few times wondering why I hadn’t thought before I blurted that out. “I saw her sitting back watching while y’all were taking your wedding photos.”

  “Again, you didn’t say a word, knowing that I had invited her and was hoping she would show up,” Angela said. “You didn’t just see her like Gayle did. You talked to her.”

  “Angela, if I had told you, what would you have done?”

  “I would have come over and spoken to her. Thanked her for coming.”

  “And then what?” I said.

  “And then, I would have hoped she would give me some indication she was actually my grandmother, and I could have hugged her, and we could have taken these fabulous photos together.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t push the issue. She said she wasn’t who you thought she was.”

  Angela let out a loud sigh. “Then why did she come to my wedding?”

  “Because,” I almost whispered before turning up the volume in my voice, “she said she didn’t have anything else to do. She told me that’s why she had come. Not because she was your grandmother. Not because she cared about you. Not to surprise you. She’s an old woman nobody seems to like being around, so she was probably shocked and delighted to get an invitation to anything. In fact, she said she had a dress she thought she would never get to wear and your wedding was as good an occasion as any.”

  “She didn’t say that,” Angela said. “You’re just trying to get me to see the point. Just like Gayle tried to get me to see it.”

  “So is that how you knew she was there? Gayle told you?”

  “She told me after she got back home. After I went on and on about how I couldn’t believe Arletha didn’t show up. She told me she had come, and she’d seen her at the reception. I can’t believe you both knew she was there and never said one word to me.”

  “Gayle’s gone back?”

  “Yes, she went back right after my wedding, although I think she likes it here. I have a feeling she might be thinking of relocating to Birmingham, especially since we’re in need of good nurses. From what I hear, she’s top-notch.” Angela giggled a little. “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you. But I see what both you and Gayle are trying to get through my head. If you had told me Arletha was there, I would have focused my attention on her and it would have possibly marred the mood of my wedding. Especially if what you’re saying is true,” Angela said. “That she’s really not my grandmother. She has said that and my saying anything different won’t make it any different. If I had known she was there while we were taking pictures, I probably would have insisted she take a photo with us, kin or not. Okay, okay. You were right not to tell me.”

  “I know,” I said, trying not to sound too smug about it. “One thing I know is planning. And interrupting such a beautiful day with a possible grandmama drama was not my idea of how I pictured your wedding coming off in the end. Listen, I love my share of drama in books, television, and the movies as well as the next girl. But when it comes to things I’m involved in, I’d prefer to skip the drama if possible.”

  “So what do you suggest I do?” Angela asked.

  I thought about Arletha and all the things I remembered from my childhood surrounding her. “Leave her alone,” I said. “She’s who she is, and from my point of view, she doesn’t seem at all interested in what you’re selling.”

  “I’m not selling anything. I just thought she might be my grandmother.”

  “And now you know that she’s not. So let it go. I’m telling you, you need to leave well enough alone.”

  “I have just one more thing to say about Arletha. She must really want somebody in her life. From a Christian standpoint, I feel the woman must be lonely and could use some love,” Angela said.

  “I won’t argue with you there. But what made you say that?” I asked.

  “Okay. She came to my wedding. If she’s not my grandmother—and according to what you and Gayle have been saying, she’s not that nice a person—in spite of my blind spot to see that, then why show up at my wedding? There’s something there.”

  My Call Waiting signal beeped. I looked at the Caller ID. It was Marcus. “Hey, I need to take this call,” I said. I hated doing it the way I did, but seeing Marcus’s number pop up scrambled my brain and put me in a mode of urgency.

  “Sure,” Angela said.

  “We’ll talk again soon,” I said in a rush. “Bye.”

  I clicked the flash button and hoped it hadn’t taken me too long to switch over. “Hello,” I said. “Hello.”

  “Melissa, it’s Marcus.”

  I felt my heart begin to melt just a little bit more, and I knew right then and there I was truly in trouble. I really, really liked this guy. Really.

  Now for the true question: Where would he and I go from here?

  Chapter 26

  Behold, O God our shield, and look upon the face of thine anointed.

  —Psalm 84:9

  Marcus and I had a wonderful talk on the phone. He asked if he could come over. Of course that was okay with me. When he came, I asked him exactly (no guessing, no assuming anymore) what he did for a living.

  He chuckled. “For the most part, I’m an investor currently working for a large financial investment firm. I’m also working at a few of my own things I believe in, so I’m investing in them personally. I guess you can say I do all right.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to figure out how Dr. Brewer fit into this picture. “I thought you might have been in sales or something. You know, coming to see Dr. Brewer every month.”

  “You could classify what I do as sales since I have to sell people on the idea of investing in a particular thing, company, organization, or group,” he said as he smiled while tilting his head slightly to one side and gazing into my eyes.

  I hated it when he looked at me like that. Allow me to clarify. I liked it but I hated it because it made me feel like I should be doing something. I wanted to get him to tell me what connection he had with Dr. Brewer, but I knew that would be ethically wrong. Dr. Brewer was my employer. Marcus was a friend, possibly headed toward being my boyfriend. Wow, I kind of liked the sound of that although when you get to be our ages, boyfriend sounds childish. Boyfriend…manfriend, that’s better. Yeah, my manfriend.

  “You’re dying to know, aren’t you?” Marcus said, jarring me back to the here and now.

  “Know what?” I was trying to figure out if I had been so deep in thought that I’d missed part of an important dialogue.

  He wrinkled his nose a few times. “You’re dying to know why I come to Dr. Brewer’s office.”

  I buttoned my lips tighter just in case they had thoughts of their own to possibly betray me. My lips have been known to do that: say something they know shouldn’t have been said. Not this time. I smiled hard, held my tongue back behind my teeth, and merely shrugged.

  “Oh, so you don’t want to know?”

  “Yes, I want to know, but I know it’s not right, especially since technically it’s none of my business,” I said in a mad rush of words. “Does that make sense?”

  “It makes perfect sense. You don�
��t want to ask about things you have no business knowing. I respect a woman who respects others’ privacy. What I can do is tell you that your employer is a great man and what he’s doing is well worth investing in.”

  I thought about what he said and it was beginning to click. “You’re an investor?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you invest in companies and things you believe are worth investing in?”

  “Yes.” He smiled, then winked at me. “And I’m generally pretty good at picking what has been underestimated and grossly undervalued. That includes people as well as businesses.”

  I blushed.

  “And because I know you probably want to know and likely are too polite to ask, I really do make a pretty good living doing it. So what would you say to me and you seeing a little more of each other?”

  “I’m game,” I said.

  At the end of the week we went out on a date—a movie and a sit-down dinner. The following Wednesday, he came to Bible study with me at Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center. I could tell he loved Pastor Landris’s teaching. The following Sunday, he and Aaliyah came to church with me. Aaliyah went to what we call children’s church.

  “I want to come back here again,” Aaliyah said. “Can we, Daddy? Can we come back again? We have our own church, Daddy, with our own songs. It was so much fun!”

  “Yes, honey. We can come back again,” Marcus said, beaming at his daughter.

  “You promise, Daddy?” Aaliyah said. She squinted at him.

  “I promise,” said Marcus.

  “Lord, I love to praise your name,” Aaliyah began to sing as we walked to Marcus’s black Lexus.

  We went out to eat after church, and I fell totally in love with both father and daughter all over again. We laughed so much we had other people looking at us and eventually laughing just because we were so tickled.