Joy Comes in the Morning (3 page)

“What's wrong, Alex? Are you crying?” Marisol squinted up her eyes in confusion. “Chica, what's wrong?”

“No, I'm fine. It's just these darn allergies, you know.” I pulled tissue from my pocket and wiped my eyes. The last thing I needed was Marisol prying into my personal business. She was my friend, but we only talked about the present and the future, never the past. In fact, I was always careful not to let anyone get that close to me. I kept walking down the aisle of the pharmacy, hoping she would just leave me alone.

The store was fairly small, so thank goodness the aisles were short. The overhead lighting was bright, however, and I was sure it would reveal all the emotion in my face if I had to face Marisol again. So I kept walking, trying to look normal, trying to look like I wasn't hiding anything. Yet what I was hiding was internal.

“Yeah, girl, I know what you mean.” Marisol started walking behind me down the aisles. “Hay fever season is no joke.”

“Right. This time of year is always a little rough on me.” I walked over to the counter and paid for my products.

“Me too, girl. Hey, why don't you try some Claritin?”

“I will.” Yep, that was Marisol, the advice giver. I took a deep breath and walked past her. By this time she was busy reading the label for allergy medicine. “Look, I'm going to go on back before Dr. Harding has a fit.”

“Okay, I'll see you in a few.” Marisol was busy digging in her purse and didn't look up.

I hurried out of the store, dried my eyes, and blew my nose. I had to get a grip on my emotions because they were selling me out. When I finally caught my breath, I headed back to work across the street.

I peeked into Dr. Harding's office to let him know I was back, placed my bag down, took out the candy bar and stuffed it into my pocket. Then I sat down at my desk, gobbled down the turkey and cheese sandwich I'd brought from home, washed it down with a Diet Coke, went into the dimly lit storeroom, and shut the door behind me. I wanted to be alone before Marisol returned, before anyone needed me. I sat on a step ladder to get myself together, unable to stop thinking of Michelle and the consequences of her hidden box. My head was throbbing by now. Why couldn't I just let it go? I looked around the dusty storeroom and made up my mind at that moment that I'd talk to Michelle and find out the truth. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I'd get her to confide in me, and then I'd help her to make the decision that I, God help me, should have made. She was young, vulnerable, and unmarried, but somewhere deep inside, I envied her. Maybe because she was carrying a life she still had a chance to protect.I ran my hand across my own stomach, which was a little pudgy, but only because of the butter pecan Haagen Daazs I had been drowning myself in lately. My womb was empty; no life. I sighed as I looked down at my ring finger, still feeling empty despite the intensity of my impending marriage. No life there either. When did my life become like death?

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Anxiously, I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Joshua. My sweet Joshua.

I sucked up my attitude. “Hi, baby,” I said.

“Hi.” Joshua's voice was slow and steady. “How is your day going?”

I thought about Michelle and the possible drama surrounding her. Suddenly, a chill went through me as I considered what Joshua's reaction might be if he knew about her condition.Joshua was originally from a small town in Rochester, New York and was the son of ministers, who he frequently referred to as “preaching machines.” At first he was only taking general Bible study courses for personal development, but deep inside I knew he'd be a minister one day. It was only a matter of time. By day he did his banking thing, but every other waking hour he was a Bible student, reading and analyzing the Word of God. The only other thing he was passionate about was Lilah.

In fact, when he first showed up at Missionary Chapel Church, he always kept to himself, but I soon began to notice that he'd show up every time the church doors opened. Slowly I started to study him and noticed that he sat in the same position during each service, said very little, and then walked out immediately afterward. Finally, I started to notice there was a sadness in his eyes, and I guess that's what drew me to him. His eyes. I wanted to know what was behind this devoted man and his sadness. That's when I found out about his late wife, Delilah, who seemed to be a source of great pain for him. I figured her memory was just too much for him and that he left his parents' prestigious church because of it.

My throat became dry, and despite what I knew was the right thing to do, I wasn't sure I could ever tell him. “Oh, nothing special. What about yours?”

“Hectic, but never mind that, I can't wait to see you.” Joshua's voice was a mellow mix of business and pleasure.

“I can't wait to see you either.” I hoped my anticipation wasn't too evident as I didn't want to appear to be as desperate as I really was.

“I'll pick you up at six,” he said.

“I'll see you then.”

“By the way, do you remember Sister Winifred's niece, Yvonne?”

“Yes, I do. The cute one who just moved here, right?”

“Right. Well, Sister Winifred just called and asked me if I would help to show her niece around now that she's in town.” Joshua sighed. “So I just wanted you to know that she might be tagging along with us at some point.”

“Oh . . . no problem,” I said, but I didn't really mean it. Sister Winifred was the pushiest, nosiest woman in our church, and her niece, although she seemed tolerable, was a beautiful, and outgoing young woman. Not that I was the jealous type, but a caring man like Joshua, who was now headed to the altar, didn't need any distractions either.

“Thanks. You're a saint,” he said.

“I'll talk to you later,” I whispered into the phone before clicking it off.

For a moment I held it near my heart, hesitant to let him go. I knew I loved him, I just wasn't sure if love was enough. Dr. Harding peeped into the storeroom. “Alex, I thought you might be in here looking for the Wiley textbooks. When you get a chance, may I see you in my office for a moment please?”

I stood up immediately and dusted off my jacket. “Yes, sir. I'll be right there.” I ran out of the storeroom and checked to see that everything was in order behind my desk.

“This is probably about that raise you were waiting for.” Marisol, who had just walked by, winked.

“I don't know about all of that,” I said, straightening out my hair. I was curious, yet strangely ill at ease.

“Oh, come on, girl; you deserve it. You're the hardest worker here, for sure.”This was probably true, and it wasn't the worst job in the world, but I was definitely ready for increase. “We'll see.” I faked a smile as I walked away. I knocked on the door to Dr. Harding's office.

“Come in,” Dr. Harding said.

I entered the small room with its black metal desk and matching file cabinets. “Please have a seat.” Dr. Harding motioned toward a black vinyl chair. I sat with my hands in my lap, waiting patiently to hear what would be said.

Dr. Harding rose from his chair and came over to me. He had never stood that close to me before. I could smell the coffee on his breath. Then he put his hand on my shoulder, and I held my breath.

Dr. Harding wrinkled up his face “I've got to tell you that I think you've been wasting your time here. . . .”

“Excuse me? I'm wasting my time here?” I almost lost my breath at my boss's words. I rose from my seat. All I could think of was the three years of slaving away behind and in front of my desk and the hundreds of ministry students that I'd helped in the past three years.
Wasting my time?
I knew the Lord couldn't have abandoned me.

“I'm sorry, but what I mean is that you're such a good worker and that you have so much promise, that you're wasting your time here in this position. You did such a fantastic job on our previous fundraising projects, the school newsletter, and all the events you've promoted for us this year, you could clearly become a public relations liaison for our school.”

“Excuse me, public relations? I don't understand.”

“Well, you already have your bachelor's degree in liberal arts, and you're an excellent public speaker, so if you'd just go back to school to take a few courses . . .”

My mind processed the information quickly, adding up my living expenses and dreams. That is the few dreams I had left.

“There would be a huge pay increase, some travel required, and quite a few other perks if you know what I mean. We'd pay for your training, and after a few months, the promotion would be yours.” Dr. Harding pulled the hairs of his beard.

“Oh, I see,” I said, suddenly feeling foolish and trapped. Dr. Harding sat down to explain the details of his proposal as I carefully considered everything he was saying. When he was done, he rose from his chair.

“We'd like to sponsor your education, and we'd like you to sign a contract saying that you'll accept the position with the company upon completion of your program.”

“I'm flattered that you like my work. I . . . I don't know what to say.” A million thoughts ran through my head.
Holy Spirit, please give me the words to say.

“Just say yes
.
” Dr. Harding didn't blink
.

“This is so sudden, sir.”

“This isn't as sudden as you think. We've been considering this for a long time. I just needed the approval from the corporate office before I approached you.”

“I'll definitely give the position serious consideration.” I stood up and extended my hand. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, but let me know soon what your plans are because if you want it, we can make it happen. If not, I'm afraid we'll have to start the search for the
second
best candidate.” Dr. Harding smiled, and I could sense his sincerity.

“I'll let you know as soon as I can, sir.” Backing up against the door and turning the knob, I had to get out of there.

I made a narrow escape from accepting a position I clearly didn't want. I hoped my lack of interest wasn't obvious, but I doubted that very much. I was never good at pretending.

Now some might have said I was stupid for not snatching up Dr. Harding's offer, but inside, it just didn't feel right. So I guess you could say I was holding out for more, holding out for purpose. I just wasn't exactly sure what that purpose was anymore.

I did manage to get through my humdrum routines, however, I did so with Dr. Harding's offer at the back of my mind and a refusal on the tip of my tongue. But I couldn't refuse what I hadn't prayed about. After all, it wasn't like I didn't need the money.

I was thirty years old, a college graduate, and still sharing an apartment with my sister because I couldn't afford to pay rent on my own. Although I knew my financial situation would change if I could ever make it to say “I do,” I didn't like who I was now. Boy did my life take a downward spiral. I scratched my head as I wondered what went wrong. I got mixed up with the wrong man, that's what happened. I compromised my integrity. I compromised my faith. And as a result, I was almost left for dead.

Ten years, and yet sometimes it seemed like yesterday. I could've been the teacher I know I was meant to be. In fact, I probably could've been teacher of the year, the best elementary school teacher there ever was, just like my mother, but I ruined it. Here I was just a lowly Bible school secretary-do girl, who by day watched everyone living their lives, while mine disintegrated into dust. Dust. That's what I felt like, as if the wind could pick me up and lift me away. Away from my present and my past. As I let loose my own disappointments, I went back to work in silence. My mind went back to Michelle and the possibility of her being a mother. “Lord, let your will be done in Michelle's life,” I said to myself, as I wiped away all my hopes and dreams from my eyes. If only someone had intervened on my behalf. If only Taylor had been a snitch, it would've changed the course of my life. It seems to me that my destiny was sealed the day I was born to Mrs. Gabrielle Lauren Carter, because my mother didn't take any mess; none at all. I mean me and my sister were expected to walk a chalk line. There wasn't much room for mistakes, not in our sanctified house. Mother just wasn't trying to hear it. I'm not blaming her for my cover-ups, but I'm just saying she sure didn't make mistakes easy to live with.

I picked up my cell phone to end this wondering once and for all. I still had Sister Harris's number because she and I worked on an outreach project together a few months ago. I wanted to stop Michelle from making a bigger mistake than she'd probably already made. I had to call her parents and tell them what I saw. Despite the fact that they were clergy of the church, and despite the fact that I didn't know them very well, I was going to tell them their daughter might be pregnant. I pressed the button for contacts, then pressed the letter H for the Harrises' house and waited for someone to answer.

Unfortunately, just as Sister Harris picked up the phone and I was ready to tell her everything I knew, I heard Marisol's voice. “Can I get the transcript for a Morris Johnson, please?” Marisol leaned against my beige, formica desk.

My heart almost stopped as I clicked the
END
button on my cell phone. I hated to hang up on Sister Harris, but duty called, and I couldn't risk Marisol overhearing anything. How Marisol managed to sneak into my cubicle without me hearing her coming was a mystery to me. If she weren't my friend, I'd think she was spying on me.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Marisol said. “I didn't know you were on the phone.”

“No problem. I'll make that call later.” I immediately stood up and started rummaging through the beige file cabinet. “Whose file do you need?”

I glanced over at the pile of files stacked high in my in-box.“Morris Johnson. He is a recent graduate.”

“Yes, I remember him. Short? Bald?”

“Yep, that's him.” Marisol threw her head back, laughing hysterically.

I didn't have time for Marisol's sense of humor. I had things on my mind, too many things. “I'll have it ready for you in a few minutes.”

“Good, because he's sitting in the lobby waiting for it.”

“Here you go.” I handed the file to her and sat back into my chair. “Now I'll just do a printout of everything else.”

Marisol took the papers from my hand and began to look through them, one at a time. “Okay, this is interesting.”

“What is?” I never looked up from the computer.

“That he's from the west coast, South Beach.”

“What's so interesting about that?”

“I never knew anyone from California. How about you?”

“I did once.” The memory made me uncomfortable. Ahmad had been the sweetest talking thing from the West Coast. I drank in everything he was dishing out, right or wrong. I thought he was the one. He was the one all right, the one to help me destroy my future. Mama told me not to get involved with his trifling behind, but I didn't listen. I thought I was too independent, too foolish, really. It took years for me to get over him. I hadn't yet gotten over him.

“Look, I've got to get back to work now before I get fired,” I said.

“By the way, what happened with Dr. Harding? Did you get that raise?”

“No, actually I was offered a promotion.”

“A promotion?”

“Harding wants me to be the school's public relations liaison.”

“That sounds so exciting.” Marisol's eyes widened.

“It's a good opportunity, but I'm just not sure I want it.”

“Are you loco, chica?” I shrugged my shoulders. “No, I'm not crazy. I'm just tired of living someone else's life. I'm thirty years old, and I've got to find my own.”

“So find your life, but don't give up that job. First you get engaged and now this. You're on a real lucky streak, I'm telling ya.”

“I'm blessed, and luck has nothing to do with it.” I said it more to convince myself than to convince her.

At the end of the day, I punched my time card, said good-bye to my fellow employees, received a congratulatory high five from Marisol, and started the short journey to the gym where Taylor worked. As I walked through the concrete Brooklyn neighborhood to get to the train station, I noticed all the women walking along the sidewalk, either sporting swollen bellies or pushing baby strollers. Even some who weren't women at all, who didn't look old enough to raise any child. How in the world did they do it? Unwillingly, my mind went back to Michelle, who was now a mother. Another punch to my soul. When I finally arrived at the gym, Taylor greeted me at the door.

“What's up, sis? I see you decided to work out today.”

“Yes, I need to relieve some stress.”

“Good choice.” Taylor led me to an empty treadmill. I told her briefly about my encounter with Michelle in the pharmacy.

“I hope she ain't pregnant for her sake. She's too young for that mess.” Taylor set the timer and walked away.

“Yes, she is too young.” I began to walk, and then within seconds, I began to run, shifting my weight back and forth on each leg, huffing and puffing as if I were trying to blow one of the houses of the three little pigs down.

A few minutes later I noticed Shayla McConell walk in, and instantly I knew there would be trouble.

“Oh no, she didn't bring her raggedy tail up in here today,” Taylor said. “She's not gonna bust my groove.”

“Pay her no attention.” I wasn't in the mood for another one of my sister's showdowns.

“Who in the world does she think she is coming in here, flaunting her platinum wedding ring and new workout gear?” Taylor whispered to me, “She is such a pain.”

“Good to see you, Taylor,” Shayla said.

“What's up, Shayla?” Taylor threw her long, braided weave out of her face. “Just swinging by because I heard that this business will soon be for sale.” Shayla was so tall, and she had the nerve to stick her silicone implanted breasts in Taylor's face.

“What? What do you mean for sale?” She had Taylor's attention.

“Oops, I guess nobody told you, huh? Well, good news travels fast. I heard that Ms. Arlene will be looking for a buyer before you know it.” Shayla looked through her Gucci purse.

“No time soon, Shayla. That's not gonna happen.” Taylor's eyes were bulging.

“You'd be surprised how fast time can fly by. Maybe I'll buy this place, fix it up, and then you can work for me.” Shayla touched Taylor's shoulder with her long fake nails.

I prayed that Taylor would hold herself back.

“Not in your wildest dreams.” Taylor pushed her hand off of her.

“We'll see about that. Let Ms. Arlene know I stopped by.” Shayla twisted herphony self to the front door, hopefully on her way back to that dungeon of hers she liked to call a fitness center.

“Over my dead body.” Taylor called out to her.She had done it again, managed to get all up under my sister's skin.Shayla looked back and grinned. “Whatever.”

Shayla was the type who liked to throw stuff in a person's face any chance she could get. Ever since Taylor started working there they'd been rivals. My sister was the best at what she did. People came from all over the city to work with her because she was the ultimate fitness instructor and personal trainer. Since Shayla owned the center up thestreet, she didn't like the competition Ms. Arlene's place was giving her. The word on the street was her rich, several franchise owning husband bought it for her right after the wedding, which by the way was quite an extravaganza in and of itself. She went from tired aerobics instructor to entrepreneur extraordinaire almost overnight. Taylor had been livid ever since.

I sat on that exercise bike, pumping my legs into oblivion as I watched Shayla strut out the front door in her designer labels. Then my sister took off running into her boss's office. I could only imagine what Taylor was saying to her because The Push It Fitness Center was Taylor's whole life.

About twenty minutes later, Taylor came out of her office and walked over to me with her head bowed.

“What happened?” I knew it was nothing nice.

Her nostrils flared and her breathing became heavy. “Ms. Arlene doesn't understand. I live, eat, and breathe this center.”

“What did she say?”

“She'll be retiring in about six months and selling the place. Six months ain't enough time for me.” Taylor sighed.

“I'm sorry, Taylor.”

“Yeah, me too. I begged for my job. I said I'd help out more, but it's just not enough . . .”

I felt sorry for her because I knew how much she, unlike me, loved her job. Being in fitness was the only thing she ever wanted to do with her life. “Don't worry. You're young and ambitious. I'm sure it will all work out for the best.”

“Yeah, right.” She turned on the balls of her feet and plopped down on a weight lifting bench where she rubbed her head against the chrome bars.

Her petite co-worker, Bria, came over to stand beside her. “Well, at least she's giving us plenty of notice.”

“What am I going to do? It's May now, and I've only got up until November.” Taylor turned to her.

“Just look for another job like I will.” Bria sat down on an exercise ball and started rocking back and forth.

“But I love it here. I don't want another job.” Taylor slammed her hand down against the bench. “I always thought I'd leave here when I was ready to open one of my own.”

“Well, why don't you?” I was always good at motivating other people, but never myself.

“Why don't I what?”

“Open your own,” Bria said, smacking her gum.

“I would but—” Taylor looked annoyed that I was interfering.

“But what?” I dug deeper because I had nothing to lose.

“I need to get my act together to be able to do that. And six months is not a lot of time.” Taylor shook her head in despair.I wasn't used to seeing her broken like this.

“So get it together then. You're no punk, who is stopping you?” Bria gave her a playful punch in the arm. Taylor gave her such a venomous look that Bria stepped back.

“I'm stopping me; cause even though I want it real bad, I know I ain't ready.” Taylor stood up and started to walk away.

“You've got some time.” Bria looked at her fingernails.

“Probably not enough time, but I guess I'll give it my best shot.”

“Now, that's the Taylor I know,” I said.

When my long workout at the gym finally came to a close, I was tired, and my biceps were a little sore from the intense exercise I forced on myself. I knew I would have to work a little harder if I wanted to fit into a decent size wedding dress.Rush hour on the number four train was no picnic in the park. Unfortunately, my car spent more time in the shop than it did on the street, so there I was taking the train again. There wasn't an empty seat in sight, so I stood against the door, squeezed between two women. Not exactly my idea of how I wanted to be squeezed. The train jerked me back and forth as a dirty faced old man leaned toward my direction. I turned my cheek to him but I could still smell his garlic breath. Two more stops on the stinking train, and I'd be home where I could kick back and relax a little before my date with Joshua tonight.

When the doors opened, I walked out into the subway station, up the stairs, and finally into the fresh air. Since I was still wearing my workout gear, which was a rarity, and since I was going out tonight, I decided to run all the way home. Needless to say, I was gasping for air before I hit the end of the block. No, I was nothing like my sister, the queen of fitness. As I turned the first corner and was about to cross the street, I looked up, but couldn't believe my eyes. I blinked my eyelids to be sure it wasn't true. No, he was not with her.