Fatima had purchased several DVDs for the children to watch while they practiced. She bought pizzas and other fun foods that the children loved. For three Saturdays in July and two Saturdays in August, they came together even though Tiffany had long ago reached the level she needed. They’d continued meeting because the three women really loved the Christian sisterhood that had developed among them.
“It’s a good thing we’re dancing while we’re eating all this junk food,” Fatima said as she took a bite of the Pizza Hut deep-pan pizza topped with an assortment of meat she’d ordered for the adults. The children loved cheese pizzas. “Can you imagine the pounds we would have gained by now had we not been burning off these extra calories dancing?”
Tiffany chimed in. “Well, I’ll be the first to admit this dance ministry has helped me to lose a little weight. And practicing at the level we’ve been doing, I’m in great shape since we began this ministry back in June. Even Darius commented on how good I was looking lately. All I’d been hearing from him was how much weight I’d gained since before we got married. Like we’re actually supposed to maintain our prewedding weight, even after having children. Talking about I’m not the same woman he married. Well, he’s not exactly the same size he was when I married him either.” Tiffany laughed.
They had been talking for more than thirty minutes and Gabrielle hadn’t said much.
“Gabrielle, is something wrong?” Fatima asked after she and Tiffany had talked without Gabrielle contributing anything to the conversation with the exception of an occasional grunt or a few properly spaced nods.
Gabrielle smiled, then shrugged. “You know, I was just thinking. It’s something how as Christians we can be so blessed on one hand while, on the other hand, things seem to be falling down all around us.”
“Do you want to talk about something in particular or is this just a general observation?” Tiffany asked.
Fatima knew about Gabrielle’s continuing financial situation, but she wasn’t sure if Gabrielle had shared that information with Tiffany or whether Gabrielle even wanted her to know. She was just glad Tiffany had been the one to put that question out there instead of her.
“In particular, I suppose,” Gabrielle said.
“Anything we can do to help?” Tiffany asked.
“That depends: Do you know anyone who’s looking to buy a house?” Gabrielle said. “It’s fully bricked, four bedrooms, three and a half baths, with two, mind you, two nice-size dens. Much too much house for one person when you actually think about it.”
Tiffany’s voice squeaked a little as she spoke. “You’re selling your house?”
“I’m trying to.”
“Well, it sounds like a nice house,” Tiffany said. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to sell it?”
Gabrielle leaned her head back on the couch. She inhaled deeply, then released it. “Because”—she exploded the b—“I need a higher paying job. Because I can no longer keep up with the payments, along with everything else, on the salary I make now.”
“Oh, I can understand that,” Tiffany said. “Things have been rather tight at our house, too. Last summer, when gas prices went up, Darius and I had to use our credit cards just to make a halfway decent dent in our gas tanks. Darius drives a Denali, and I drive my old faithful minivan. Both of them drink gas. It was costing me around sixty and him eighty dollars just to fill up our vehicles. And I have to fill up every three days. It’s funny how you don’t pay much attention to how often you fill up until gas goes sky-high. Now, even though gas has gone back down, we’re still stuck paying off those charges. Folks are calling our house occasionally looking for their money. It’s hard. Thank God for caller ID and answering machines. But those debt and bill collectors can be some tricky little devils.” Tiffany sighed.
“Darius works a lot of overtime,” Tiffany continued. “But it doesn’t seem to be helping our household very much. By the time they take out taxes on his overtime, he says there’s not much difference in what he got paid on his regular check. I told him I don’t see why he works overtime if it’s not making a difference in our family. Except that he’s not home to help out more. And as for me working outside the home, it’s the craziest thing. Do you know how much day care and after-school care cost for three children these days? And in the summertime, all three of them are in day care. It’s hard, I tell you. I’m working to pay day care. Now, how crazy is that? So, I feel you, Gabrielle. I feel you.”
Fatima pretended to wipe her mouth with her hand as she tried not to draw any special attention to herself. Knowing Darius as she had, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was really working overtime or just had another woman on the side. If he would cheat on his wife with her, lying about what he was doing so he could spend time with her when they were together, he might be lying to her now about working overtime. Perhaps that was the real reason his take-home pay was so close to his regular pay. No extra work, no extra pay.
“Well, Gabrielle, keep your chin up. A lot of Christians are struggling these days,” Tiffany said. “Being a child of God doesn’t seem to exempt us from the troubles of this world. And the Bible tells us that in this life we’re going to have troubles.”
“But do you know what the Bible also says?” Fatima said. “It says we have not, because we ask not. We need to let God know what we need, then stand on His Word.”
Tiffany raised one hand in the air as a witness. “Oh, now, I know that’s right! Me personally, I believe what the Bible says. Yes! My God shall supply all of my needs according to His riches in glory.”
“Well, I have been praying, and I’ve continued believing.” Gabrielle turned up the bottle of water she was drinking and took a few swallows. “I continue to expect, standing in faith, that something good is about to happen any day now. You know, like I’ll get a better-paying job that pays enough for me to keep my house. Or somebody makes an offer closer to what I owe on my house so I at least don’t still end up having to pay on it after I sell it. Originally, I wanted to get the equity I’d put in. Now, I’ll be happy just to break even. If I can just get what is owed, I’ll be thankful.”
“Now that I think about it, I believe one of our dance team members works in the mortgage department of a bank. Maybe you can talk to her and see if she has any suggestions or ideas that can help you,” Tiffany said. “You never know.”
“Now, that’s a thought,” Fatima said, turning to gauge Gabrielle’s reaction to that suggestion. “Why don’t you check into that?”
“I’ve already spoken with a financial advisor. I’m not sure anyone can tell me anything different than what I’ve already been told. And what I’ve been told is that either I need to make more money and pay what I owe or I need to unload my house and get it out of my name,” Gabrielle said. “And the sooner, the better.”
“I would still check with her,” Tiffany said. “You never know what God is up to. People used to say this all the time, but I know it for myself now: God works in mysterious ways.”
“Okay, so who is it?” Gabrielle asked.
“Sasha Peeples,” Tiffany said.
“Sasha works for a bank?” Fatima said. “Well, I didn’t know that. I thought she was working somewhere else last year.”
“Yeah, she works for the bank now,” Tiffany said. “From what I heard, she’s only been there about eight months. I’m not sure whether she can help or give you any useful information,” Tiffany said, directing her statement to Gabrielle now, “but it sure can’t hurt to check.”
“Meantime, keep praying and believing. God is faithful,” Fatima said.
“Oh, let’s not just talk about it, let’s do it now,” Tiffany said. She rose to her feet and held out her hands for the other two to stand and take hold of. “Let’s pray.”
They stood, grabbed each other’s hands to form a small circle, and prayed.
The doorbell rang just as they finished.
“I wonder who that could be,” Fatima said to no one in particular
.
“Oh, that’s probably my husband,” Tiffany said nonchalantly. “Let me go get the kids. Will you tell him I’ll be right out?” Tiffany said to Fatima.
“You didn’t drive?” Fatima asked, then realized how strange that must have sounded. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize you didn’t drive here today.”
“My husband’s Denali is in the shop. He needed to borrow my van. I had him drop me off and told him what time to come pick me up,” Tiffany said. The doorbell rang again. Tiffany laughed. “Fatima, aren’t you going to answer the door?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Fatima said as she started toward the door. Tiffany went to get the children. Fatima took a deep breath, then released it as she opened the door.
Darius stood there wearing his signature Kangol hat, his head cocked to the side. “Hi there,” he said. “I’m not sure whether you remember me or not. But I’m Darius Connors. I’m Tiffany’s husband.” He made sure he emphasized Tiffany’s name. “I’m here to pick up her and my children.”
“She’s gone to get the children,” Fatima said. “She told me to tell you she’ll be right out.”
Darius was smiling at her with a sinister grin. He was like that. Fatima had hoped he would have changed by now—he hadn’t. He then slowly leaned down as though he was going to kiss her on her cheek. She took a quick step back.
“So, aren’t you going to ask me to come in while I wait on my wife?”
Fatima rolled her eyes at him. “Sure. Come on in,” she said dryly.
Darius pulled his body back a little when he saw Gabrielle standing there in her cute little black and gold jogging outfit. “Well, hello there,” he said to Gabrielle. He walked over to her and shook her hand. “I’m Darius Connors, Tiffany’s husband.”
“Hello,” Gabrielle said as she shook his hand.
“Excuse me, but have we met before?” Darius asked as he continued to hold on to her hand. “You look so familiar.”
Fatima couldn’t help but roll her eyes in total frustration at having to stand and listen to his stale and outdated come-on line, and in her house at that.
“Maybe we’ve passed each other at church or Bible study,” Gabrielle said, pulling hard enough to finally free her hand from his.
“No, I don’t think that’s it. I’m trying to picture where it might have been. I just can’t put my finger on it right now. But your face looks so familiar. Have you ever done television, commercials, anything like that? Are you an actress, a news personality possibly?”
Gabrielle shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.”
Darius scratched his head, then tapped his index finger against his buttoned bottom lip. “I’m not trying to be funny, but I’m not kidding, you do look familiar. It’s bugging me trying to figure out where I know you from.”
“I guess I just have one of those faces,” Gabrielle said.
“Yeah, Darius. You know, maybe she just has one of those faces.” Fatima’s words dripped with sarcasm. “You know, the kind of face that people see and think they’ve seen somewhere before when they really haven’t? That kind of a face.”
Tiffany came out with the children. Little D. was asleep on her shoulder, Jade and Dana beside her. She was struggling to carry him along with all of her other things.
“Hi, honey,” Tiffany said to Darius. “You’re right on time. I see you didn’t have trouble finding the house.” She lifted up a slipping Little D. “Can you help me, please?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He hurried over, taking Little D. off her shoulder, laying him on his.
They walked over to the door. “Well, I’ll see you ladies later,” Tiffany said as she stepped last through the doorway. “Thanks for everything. I enjoyed it, as always.” She hugged her two friends.
Tiffany waved one last time. Fatima closed the door after watching them get into the van. She and Gabrielle went back inside, then turned to each other.
“Jerk,” they said in unison. They both laughed at the irony of their apparently thinking the same thing and saying it at the exact same time.
“You thought so, too?” Gabrielle said.
“Oh, yeah. ‘Your face looks so familiar. Where have I seen you before?’” Fatima said, mocking Darius. “What a piece of work.”
“‘Have you ever done television? Are you an actress ?’” Gabrielle said, also repeating the words Darius had spoken to her.
“I know I’ve seen your face before.” Fatima laughed. “Where, oh where?”
Gabrielle smiled at Fatima’s comment, although in truth, she had to admit: his face looked familiar to her as well.
Chapter 18
If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man’s religion is vain.
—James 1:26
Gabrielle decided to talk to Sasha as Tiffany had suggested. Saturday afternoon the entire dance team was having its final dress rehearsal before the celebration on Sunday morning. They wanted to make sure everything went off as planned. If anything needed adjusting, it could be done during this rehearsal. After they finished and changed out of their flowing pastel dance outfits, Gabrielle walked over to Sasha. She was in deep conversation with another dance member, Alicia, the young woman who’d asked so many questions at their first ministry meeting about people having a heart to do something who may not be good enough to be chosen. Gabrielle stood waiting for the two of them to finish so she could talk privately with Sasha.
“Now, you talking about fine, good-looking, and on top of that, the man just completed his residency and has started his own private practice in an office he shares with two other doctors, that’s Doctor Z.,” Sasha said, oblivious to the fact that Gabrielle had walked up on her conversation. “He showed up at our office because he was closing on a new house he’d just bought, a thirty-five-hundredsquare-foot mansion over in Mountain Brook. I’m sure it’s just a starter home for somebody like him. But that’s a nice-size mansion, located in a great area even in this housing market, where folks have lost some really nice homes to foreclosure. And without divulging anything proprietary, you know that house had to cost him a pretty penny.”
“Wow, he does sound like something to see,” Alicia said.
“Well, he’s been here to this church a few times. I think I’ve seen him once during morning worship service and once at a Bible study,” Sasha said. “But he’s not a member. When he came to our office on Tuesday to close, I happened to mention that he looked familiar. We—well, it was actually more me than him—were trying to figure out where we might have known each other from.”
“Don’t you just hate when that happens? You see someone, and you can’t for the life of you recall where it might have been?” Alicia said.
“Ooh, girl, yeah. But it helped when I told him that I’d seen him recently. That’s how we got on the subject of him being a doctor in the first place. He asked if I’d had any reason to have come to the ER lately. That’s where he’d done his final residency—UAB Hospital emergency room. Well, of course I told him that wasn’t it. I haven’t set foot in a hospital, not even to visit anyone, since my father was sick and died. With the exception of when I had my last baby girl fourteen months ago, which would have been before he arrived. He told me most folks call him Doctor Z. Isn’t that the cutest thing?”
“Doctor Z.? That is so cute,” Alicia said. “He must have a killer last name to have to shorten it like that.”
“So then I was thinking I might have seen him at a club, since I’ve been there a couple of times this year.” Sasha stopped when she remembered she was still in church and talking about going to a club while in church was hardly appropriate. “One of my friends from high school named Mercedes celebrated her birthday at a club,” Sasha said. “That’s why I was there. Then, another friend celebrated a promotion at a club. Of course, I had to go. Both of these ladies are high maintenance. And if you don’t support them without a real good reason, like somebody died in your family—and it had better be
an immediate family member at that—they get major attitudes, major.”
Alicia waved her hand at Sasha for her to just finish the story and drop the extra commentary about why she happened to be at a club.
“Anyway,” Sasha continued, “instead of bringing up the club, I decided to ask him where he attended church. That’s when he informed me that he wasn’t a member of any particular church. He’d only recently moved back to Birmingham after earning his medical degree at University of Illinois College of Medicine in Chicago. But he did admit he was looking for a church home. In the past, with his erratic schedule, it was hard for him to make it to anybody’s church. Well, of course, I told him I was a member here, and that’s when we made the possible connection. He said he’d visited here a couple of times. I told him that’s where I’d likely seen him. He said he’s been to worship service as well as one other function this year. But I knew I’d seen him before. I may not be great with names, but I never forget a face, especially not one as good-looking as his. Oh, girl! You talk about cute.” Sasha shook her right hand as though she’d been burned and she was trying to cool it in a hurry.
“I hope you didn’t tell him all of that,” Alicia said.
“Of course I didn’t. But I did tell him about the celebratory service we’re having here tomorrow. And I think he just might come. At least, I certainly hope he does,” Sasha said. “I’ll be on the lookout for him. You can believe that!”
Gabrielle cleared her throat. She didn’t want to hear any more of Sasha’s conversation. She had hoped one of them would have noticed her standing there and acknowledged her presence so she could have at least told Sasha she wanted to talk with her when she finished. Since neither of them either realized it or acted like they saw her, she had no other option than to do something to get their attention.
Goodness and Mercy Page 13