I laughed and stood to hug him. “Of course not, silly. I forgot you told me you’d been coming to early service.” I looked at his daughters. “And who are these two gorgeous girls?”
The younger one hid behind his legs and peeked out at me.
He nudged her to come from behind him. “This is my baby girl, Cameron. And this . . .” He turned to the older daughter. “. . . is my big girl, Candace.” Pride filled his voice, and he stuck out his chest. “Girls, this is Miss Michelle. My friend from work.”
Candace held out a hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Miss Michelle.” She pulled her sister from behind Jason’s leg. “Be a big girl and say hello, Cameron.”
Cameron peeked out from her hiding place long enough to wave and to flash me a snaggle-toothed smile and went back behind her father. Candace rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Both girls looked exactly like Jason. Like their mother only served to carry them for nine months, but they took all his genes. Their clothes were color-coordinated, clean and freshly pressed. They wore matching shoes and earrings, and even their ribbons and hair bows matched. The parts in their hair were a little crooked and their braids a little uneven, but it was clear that Jason was efficient as a single dad.
“I see Cameron’s feeling better.”
Jason nodded. “Yeah. After I picked her up on Friday, she didn’t have any more vomiting. Their mom was supposed to pick them up for the weekend, but with Cameron sick, they ended up staying with me.” He reached down and smoothed a few stray hairs into Cameron’s ponytails. “Seems like we’re catching a stomach virus one Friday a month lately.”
I nodded, catching what he was implying.
“We better grab a seat before it fills up in here. Good to see you.”
Lisa, who had pretended not to be eavesdropping on the conversation, stood and gestured down our row. “We have three seats here with us. Everywhere else looks pretty full.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” Jason looked at Lisa. “Nicole, right?”
She looked surprised. “I’m Lisa. Nicole was the other friend you met.”
Jason pointed for the girls to step over me and Lisa to the seats next to us. He sat between them. Cameron sat in the seat next to me.
Jason leaned over to explain. “I have to keep them separated during church. They become little giggleboxes if I let them sit next to each other.”
I nodded.
Cameron stole a glance at me with her big pretty eyes. It was like looking into Jason’s eyes, and I felt myself getting lost in them, like I did his. She turned away from me and tried to wedge herself behind Jason’s back.
“Why you acting all shy, Cam?” He pinched her little legs and looked over at me. “When she gets warmed up, you can’t get her to stop talking.”
Jason opened his book bag and pulled out two children’s Bibles and handed one to each of the girls. He took his daughters’ jackets, folded them and put them under their seats.
When the lights dimmed a little to indicate that praise and worship was about to start, Lisa leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Cool, we can do the worship test.” She rubbed her hands together.
I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re hilarious.”
She winked. “Watch him close, girl.”
Not only did Jason stand for praise and worship, the girls stood with him, without any coaxing. Jason sang, lifted his hands, and knew all the words to all the songs.
I wanted to kick Lisa for elbowing me the whole time.
The girls also clapped and danced. Candace sang the chorus parts in a loud little-girl voice. Cameron danced in circles and sang a few words every once in a while.
When praise and worship ended, we all sat down. The girls sat quietly through the announcements. When it was time to take up offering, both girls pulled out their little purses and took out a dollar. They reached for the seat back in front of them to get an envelope. Cameron handed hers to her father to fill out, while Candace wrote her name and address in large letters on hers.
When Pastor started to preach, Cameron tapped Jason on the shoulder. He leaned down for her to whisper in his ear. He picked up the book bag and pulled out a coloring book, crayons and a Ziploc bag full of Cheerios and gave them to her. He pulled out a pink notebook and marker and handed them to Candace. She reached into the bag and grabbed a box of raisins. I had wondered why Jason needed such a large bag for church. I guess, if I had kids, I would’ve known.
I was so busy watching Cameron do a good job of coloring within the lines, I barely paid attention to the sermon. She tapped Jason every once in a while, and he’d look down, admire her artwork, then go back to listening to the sermon.
After about twenty minutes, Cameron’s eyelids drooped, and her head started to bob. After a few more minutes, I felt her little head land on my arm. She was knocked out.
Jason was too caught up in the sermon to notice. After a good five minutes, she let out a snore, and he looked down at her leaning against me. His eyes flew open. He mouthed the word sorry and started to pull her off me, but I shook my head. “She’s fine,” I whispered.
He shook his head like he was embarrassed, but I smoothed back her hair to let him know she was okay. She snuggled into my side and let out a sigh. I coulda sworn I felt my poor ovaries cramping.
When it sounded like Pastor was about to end the sermon, Jason handed the book bag to Candace, and she put her notepad, marker, and empty raisin box in it. One by one, he handed her Cameron’s book, crayons, and half empty Cheerio bag. She put them and the children’s Bibles into the book bag and zipped it shut. Jason patted her leg.
After the benediction, he gently picked a sleeping Cameron up from my lap and lifted her in his arms. Candace covered Cameron with her jacket and put on her own, picked up the book bag then nodded at Jason. Me and Lisa moved, so they could step into the aisle.
As they left, Jason turned and whispered to me, “See you at work tomorrow.”
I nodded and waved goodbye to Candace.
She said, “Nice to meet you, Miss Michelle,” as she hoisted the book bag over her shoulder.
After they left, Lisa turned to me. “Oh, my goodness, his girls are beautiful. And they’re so well-behaved. Girl, they had me rethinking my ‘kids are a deal-breaker’ rule. And he’s such a good daddy. They were clean, and their hair was done all cute, and everything matched. Girl, ain’t nothing sexier than a man taking good care of his children. Except, of course, a man worshipping. Speaking of, he passed the worship test too. Did you see him with his eyes all closed, hands lifted, singing his heart out to the Lord? And not only him, but you can tell the girls like church too. Did you see them filling out their tithing envelopes? I bet his house is clean and he can cook. I don’t know what your problem is, Michelle. He’s perfect.”
I held up a hand to stop Lisa’s flood of praise for Jason. “Please, Lisa. I can’t think of Jason like that.”
“You mean you don’t like him?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just . . . I can’t talk about it.” I looked at my watch. “I gotta go.”
“You’re going to work right now? We could go for brunch first.”
“I have to meet Isaiah. To talk.”
Lisa looked at me and shook her head. “Girl, you got too many men for me.”
When I rang the doorbell at Nigel’s, Isaiah opened the door almost immediately. He stood for a few seconds with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. His head was slightly bowed and his smile not as big as usual. When he reached out for me, his hug didn’t feel the same. I didn’t know if it was me or him. He seemed to put the same affection into it, but now, that safe, secure feeling was gone.
“Hey,” he said.
“What’s up, Isaiah?” I hoped I didn’t sound too abrupt. Apparently I did, because a pained look came into his eyes.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Was up late working on a script, and I need to spend the rest of the day working on stuff.” I smiled. “Guess
I had too much fun while I was off.” I figured I’d give him a little something.
He smiled back. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you spend too much time with Isaiah.” He led me through the foyer and up the stairs and down a long hall. “Glad you got your job back though. I told you God was going to do it.”
“Yeah. He did exactly what you said. Thanks for your prayers and for helping me stay in a place of peace through all this. I appreciate you being there for me.” I followed him into his bedroom.
“But . . .” He looked me in my eyes.
“But what?” I averted my eyes and looked around. It was a narrow room with a twin mattress on the floor. Bags of clothes lined the wall. Some were in plastic bins.
“But now?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You kinda threw me for a loop.” I looked around at boxes of books and CD’s lining the other wall.
“And it matters that much? We have a great time together. I feel like there’s something special starting between us. But because I don’t have a fancy house and luxury car, you’re no longer interested in spending time with me? How can it matter that much?”
“I guess I’m trying to figure that out.” I walked over to a wooden chair by the window. “I’m at a certain place in my life right now where . . .” I looked out at Nigel’s large, tree-lined yard. “Let me be honest. I’m thirty-five, and my heart’s desire is to be married and start a family. So as much fun as we have and as good as we may be together, we’re in different places right now. Different goals and different priorities.”
“Why do you say that? I want to get married and have a family too.”
“Okay, then maybe the same goal, but different time frames.” I sat down in the chair, staring out the window.
“What do you mean by that?”
I turned to look at him. How could I explain it without insulting his manhood? “I mean, I’m looking for someone who’s looking to be married in the near future.” He still looked puzzled. “Remember you said you’d have to change your lifestyle a lot when you met that special someone?”
“Yeah. And I can do that. I won’t travel as much. Obviously, I can’t spend three months in Europe and six months in Africa and wherever else the wind blows me if I want to have a family. I’m willing to change all that. I’ve traveled enough to last a lifetime. Meeting the right person and settling down would be worth giving that up.”
“Okay.” Certainly, that wasn’t the only lifestyle change he thought he’d have to make. I hated to have to spell it out for him. “And where would we live, Isaiah?” I gestured around the room. “Here at Nigel’s? Would we share a car? Would I be responsible for all the bills? How would that work?”
He let out a long, defeated breath like I had punched him in the chest. “Oh. I see.” He sat down on the mattress and pulled his guitar onto his lap. “When we talked that day at the park, you sounded like you understood. That’s the only reason I let things go this far. I know everyone’s not up for the way I live.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not sure I understand the way you live.”
He strummed a few chords on the guitar. “Think about it. My parents are missionaries. They live their life based on people’s generosity, and they’re able to do the work of the Kingdom because of it. They sacrifice the normal life—having a house and car and so-called stability—and pour out their lives for the sake of others and for the sake of the Kingdom. And their fruit is great. They’ve impacted thousands of lives, if not millions. That’s what I’ve known. How I’ve always lived.”
He raked a hand through his locks. “You’ve seen me in Atlanta chillin’ and being a bum. But if you went with me on my next trip to Cameroon, you’d see the real me. Sometimes I lead worship in church meetings daily—services with thousands of people that last for hours where the presence of God falls and people’s lives are changed. I pray for the sick, help build houses, and dig wells. Sometimes, I take my guitar to the hospitals there and play for people dying without hope—without Jesus. And they get saved. And sometimes they get healed. I visit the orphanages of hundreds of children who’ve lost their parents to AIDS. And I play with them, sing with them, dance with them and then teach them about Jesus. You mean to tell me that my life isn’t meaningful because I don’t have a million-dollar house and a Hummer?”
“No,” I answered. “Not at all. That’s a very meaningful life. Very beautiful and fruitful. One you shouldn’t give up for me or any other woman. It’s who you are and what you’re called to do. God should send you a woman who’s willing to be out there in the trenches with you. Digging wells, building houses and ministering to the children in Africa. I’m just . . . I’m not that woman.”
I added, “And it’s not about a million-dollar house and a Hummer. It’s about a certain degree of security that I’m used to having. I’m the kind of girl that needs a house and a car and some consistent form of income to feel secure. You need the kind of girl that doesn’t.”
He stood and walked over to the window where I sat. “Okay, so we could still hang out then. I really enjoy spending time with you, and I know you enjoy spending time with me.”
“Isaiah, I’m too old to be hanging out for the sake of hanging out. My heart’s desire is to be married and have children. And if that’s not where this is going, then . . .” I put a hand on his arm. “And honestly, if we kept hanging out, we’d probably fall in love. And one of us would end up compromising the life we’re called to live. I can’t forsake my destiny, and I can’t ask you to give up yours.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He rubbed his goatee and pressed his lips together tight. “Okay. Well . . . I guess that’s it then.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
He led me back down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door. He gave me one last hug, kissed my cheek and then held me again. Tight. He let out a deep breath then let me go. “Bye, Michelle.”
I gave him a little wave and walked down the steps to my car. As I drove off, I waved again. “Goodbye, Isaiah.”
As I drove away, I wasn’t sure how to feel. I was sad because I had put my heart out there one more time and it turned out he wasn’t the one. I was grateful to God that He quickly answered my prayer about bringing things to a screeching halt. As bad as I felt, I knew it would be ten times worse if I had spent a lot more time with Isaiah. He had crawled up in my heart real quick.
My only hope was that if Isaiah was so wonderful and he wasn’t the one, then God must be planning on sending me something better.
twenty-nine
“This one’s nice.” Me and the girls were seated around Angela’s dining table, looking through bridal magazines. I held the magazine up for everyone to look at a simple, yet elegant bridesmaid’s dress. Angela had decided to go ahead and get married before she started to show. She wanted to be married when she delivered the baby and didn’t want to walk down the aisle with a huge belly. Which meant we had a lot of planning to do in a very short time.
At first, Angela said she wanted to have a small ceremony at the courthouse with Gary and two witnesses. We convinced her to go ahead and have the wedding she’d dreamed of and waited all her life for. Vanessa had been working with her on getting over the guilt and shame, while Lisa inundated her with bridal magazines. Between the two of them, Angela decided she deserved a ceremony.
Gary’s pastor agreed to marry them, after they went through premarital counseling sessions for couples in “special” circumstances. Angela couldn’t accept the idea of getting married at our church. Even though she was feeling better about everything, she still struggled with embarrassment.
“Look at this wedding gown.” Angela held up a picture. “It has a princess cut, so even though I’ll have a little belly, it should still fall right.” She was almost glowing again. I wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy or because she had finally made peace with her situation.
“So the Hummer and the house are his sister’s? And he’s dead broke?” Lisa asked for t
he third time since I told them the latest and last chapter of the Isaiah story. As excited as she was to be planning a wedding, she couldn’t get past my tidbit of news.
I nodded again. It had only been a week since I said goodbye to Isaiah, and I missed him terribly. Missed his smile, missed his music, missed his hugs. And I missed having a “him” in my life. Even though we had only been hanging out for a few weeks, I had gotten used to someone being there for me.
I was back to being desperate and lonely again.
Nicole flipped through the pages of her magazine. “I knew something wasn’t right. At least he wasn’t selling drugs. I’m glad you found out before you got too deep off into him.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I wasn’t already too deep.
“That must have been a hard decision to make.” Vanessa said. “He sounded really wonderful, and sounds like you guys had great chemistry. Was it difficult to give him up?”
“Yes and no. I mean, he’s a great guy. Sexy, talented, and completely committed to building the Kingdom. But number two on my list is financially secure. And he’s anything but that. It’s like the lady from the singles ministry said. Set the important things on your list and don’t compromise because you’re lonely and horny or because some guy sweeps you off your feet.”
“Yeah, but it’s like you’re sacrificing love for the sake of money. What if he’s your soul mate and you’re letting him go because he’s not rich?” Angela said, as she tore yet another wedding dress picture out of the magazine and added it to her stack of “possibles.”
“Girl, I’ve walked down that road before. That idealistic fantasyland that believes love is all you need. Money matters. For eleven years, I carried the financial weight in my marriage. I can’t do that again. I want a man that makes enough to support us—or at least, most of our expenses.”
Nicole said, “You know financial problems are one of the leading causes of marital discord and divorce. I can’t remember which wins out, that or adultery. Point is, being broke is almost as bad as or worse than cheating.”
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