Joy Comes in the Morning (4 page)

When I saw them together, my footsteps froze. I knew it had to be his wife because Taylor had bragged about stealing him from a woman that looked like her. I immediately looked for any sign of togetherness, so I could have more facts to throw at Taylor when and if I needed to. There were no signs. All I saw was a quick exchange of a child, who appeared to be Derek's son. Derek was one of the guys Taylor was currently dating, and according to her, he had one eleven-year-old son. I watched the tall, slim woman with long blond cornrows roll her neck and speed off in her Mustang. I quickly ducked behind a graffiti covered wall, breathing hard. I waited until I saw him get back into his white Honda Accord and drive down the street before I took off running again.If Taylor was the one seeing a married man, why in the world was I hiding? I couldn't believe my sister was dating married men now, separated or not. She had dropped her standards, and for what? A couple of laughs? A couple of drinks? I wondered when she would figure out that it wasn't worth it. Remembering my mother's voice urging us to never lose respect for ourselves, I clenched my teeth. She'd probably be so disappointed in us both.

When I arrived at my building I was sweating heavily, and I couldn't wait to strip out of my gray sweat suit. I walked up the front steps stairs, and once inside, I then climbed up the narrow staircase leading to my apartment. On the way up I smelled Mrs. Rosetti's homemade spaghetti sauce, which increased my hunger. Seeing old man Jenkins's scrawny cat roaming the hallway as I neared my floor made my skin crawl. The cat rubbed itself against my leg while I fished through my gym bag for the key. “You little fur ball.” I pushed him away from me with my foot. Finally, I flung the door open wide and stood in the safety of my own living room. With my bag still in my hand, I sifted through the mail on the side table. Bills, bills, nothing but bills. I needed a raise. I set the mail down and proceeded to the bathroom. A good hot bath would start my evening off right. By the time my home spa experience was over and I came out of the bathroom, wearing my pink terry cloth bath robe, Taylor was already sitting on the couch. I saw her peep over at me from the corner of her eye.

“You're finally home.” I didn't know what to say, given the sullen expression on her face. “Yep.” Taylor's head was buried in her hands. Suddenly, as if feeling my stares, she looked up. “You know, I'm fired up. I can't believe Ms. Arlene is selling the center.”

Given the mood she was in, I didn't dare mention that I had seen Derek earlier. Besides, knowing the way she dealt her player card, she probably wouldn't care anyway. “Well it won't be so bad if you can buy the center. Anything can happen in six months.” I circled the couch.

“Whatever. That's easy for you to say. You've already got your job and a husband to support you.”

“Oh, come on, don't give me that. You could've gone to college. That was your choice. And all you've ever wanted to do is what you're doing now, so . . . My job is dead end, and you know I don't really like it. And as for the husband part, well, I haven't walked down the aisle yet.”

“What's that supposed to mean? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were scared or something.”

I turned away from Taylor so she couldn't read me. “Don't be silly. I'm just saying . . . I'm not married yet.”

“Mmm. I'm just sayin' . . .”

“Oh, don't give me that look of yours. I'm going to marry Joshua. And you're going to own your own fitness center.

“Whatever you say.” Taylor leaned over to open a bottle of nail polish. Ironically, I pictured Taylor dressed in her most appealing workout gear, commanding a large fitness staff. Yet, for some reason, I couldn't picture me making it to the altar. I saw myself in a white gown, and I even saw Joshua waiting, but in my dream, I never made it. Something always happened, but I never made it to say, “I do.”

“I'm serious.” I went on with the fantasy. “You've got resources. You'll do a business plan, get a loan, and maybe even get an investor.”

Taylor's eyes grew wide. “I knew that college education of yours would pay off one day.”

“Ha-ha. You'll be in business before you know it. So you see, it's not so bad.” I stood up.

Taylor put her foot up on the couch and stuffed cotton between her toes. Then she slowly began to run the brush across her toenails. “All I know is that by the time Ms. Arlene has her retirement party in November, The Push It Fitness Center had better be all mine.”

“Well, I believe you're just the woman to make it happen.”

“I ain't gonna let that heifer, Shayla McConnell, get it.” Taylor shook her fist in the air.

“I can't believe that Shayla is still antagonizing you after all this time.”

“Yeah, and not only that, but she wants to make Ms. Arlene an offer. Knowing Miss Stuck Up, I'm sure it's going to be a fat offer.” Taylor stopped polishing and looked up at me.

“So get a loan.”

“With my credit, I doubt if they'll loan me a pen.” Taylor picked up a pen from the center table and threw it down just to demonstrate her point.

“Maybe with some credit counseling and super saving from now until then, you can push it.”

“I've got no choice. There ain't no way I'm gonna sit back and just watch the best thing in my life be sold right out from under me.” Taylor threw her hands into the air. “I know what you mean.”

“Not without a fight that is.” Taylor balled her fingers into a fist and punched a pink throw pillow.

I walked into my bedroom, took off my bathrobe and eased into an apricot colored shorts set. When I came back into the living room, Taylor's head was still bowed. This wasn't like her at all. She never let life get her down.

“By the way, I got offered a promotion.” I sat on the arm of the couch.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You ain't tryin' to make me feel better, are you?”

“No, I'm sorry. I . . . I don't even want the job. I mean it's tempting and all, because the pay will be much better, but I don't want to be a public relations liaison.” I stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Taylor followed. “What's your problem?” Taylor sucked her teeth. “At least you've got a job.”

“I'd have to take more classes and travel a lot, and I'm not sure I want to do this.”

“You're not still on that little teacher thing, are you?”

I didn't answer. “I'm not interested in public relations.”

“Then turn down the job. It's your life. Ain't nobody stopping you.”

“You're right. It's my life, and I'm messing it up.” I tried to contain myself, but before I knew it, a tear had run down my cheek.

All of a sudden Taylor stood up and looked into my eyes. “That's not it at all, is it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's not the job you're worrying about.” Taylor pointed her long fingernail at me. “It's the marriage.”

I looked down at the floor and didn't say a word.

“I knew it. You ain't happy, and that's not like you; not when you're about to be Mrs. Joshua Bennings. So what is it? I know his family is not the easiest to deal with, but still . . .”

This was true. Joshua's family hadn't been the most welcoming. Oh sure, they were cordial at church functions and the occasional dinner at their huge Long Island home, but I'd never felt their genuine approval since Joshua and I had become an item. In fact, they had, a couple of times, tried to set Joshua up with more suitable women from their church; all daughters of well known pastors. Each time, Joshua had politely rebuked them, and assured me that I had his heart. Still I always wondered if at the back of his mind, he, too, felt I was beneath him. My father was no well known anything; just a common, retired sanitation worker. My mother, God rest her soul, was a first generation school teacher in the public school system. Nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to compare to Joshua's family either.Joshua's father was not only a pastor, but he was also a third generation judge. His mother was not only a first lady, but she was also a Congresswoman. Together, they were nothing to be scoffed at, and they were united in their mission to protect their only son.

“No, it's not his parents,” I said.

“Good, 'cause I don't like them anyway.” Taylor stretched her gum out on her tongue, and then rolled it back into her mouth.

“You don't like anybody.”

“Whatever.”

“It's just that . . .” I stood up and began pacing the worn carpet.

“What is it?”

I looked into Taylor's eyes. “I've started having those dreams again.”

The kitchen was nothing elaborate, just a bright yellow color we'd painted it a few years back and a simple square table with vinyl chairs. But just like during our childhood, it was our favorite meeting place. Mom was always in there cooking something good for us to eat.

“Not those same dreams you had back then?” Taylor put her hands on her hips and squinted her eyes.

“Yes, those.”

I reached into the cabinet and opened a box of doughnuts. Whenever I was nervous, I liked to eat.

“But that was so long ago, Alex,” Taylor said.

“Don't you think I know that? Do you think I'm having them on purpose or something? Like I planned for my life to become this big mess?”

“Well, why now?”

“It all started up again when Joshua and I started going out together. I mean he started talking about marriage and children, me being a mother to his daughter, how he wants a big family, and I guess it has all been bothering me.”

“You guess?”

“It has been building up slowly, getting worse as the weeks go by,” I said. “Here we are three months later, and I'm in a lot of trouble. My heart wants to marry Joshua, but my mind tells me I can't.” I tossed a doughnut into my mouth.

Taylor reached over and took the box out of my hands. “Look, don't be a fool. Neither one of us ain't getting any younger. Just because I don't want to be tied down doesn't mean you shouldn't be. You believe in all that love garbage. I don't, but I believe it works for you. You'll get married. I'll be your maid of honor. I'll look stunning, try not to outshine you, and you two boring people will go off somewhere and live happily ever after or as close to it as possible.”

“I hope you're right.” I stuck another doughnut into my mouth.

“You know I'm right; that is if you stop sucking down doughnuts like they're fresh air.” Taylor pushed the box across the small table. “Look, Josh is a little too sweet for my taste, but he's all right for you.”

“Sweet?” I frowned up my face at her. “Hey, my man isn't gay.”

“I didn't say he was gay, he's just a little too soft, but that's your style so—”

“I guess I'm worried that he's not over his wife and how she died.”

“Well, death ain't easy. I still remember watching Mommy, praying, hoping, and shrinking down to nothing.” Taylor closed her eyes as if the memory drained her. “Death is hard. I can't tell no lies about that. Give him time.”

“I feel like I'm running out of time.”

“When is the wedding?”

“I don't know yet, but we'll probably decide on a date tonight.”

“Well, just talk to him about her. Maybe his feelings have changed now that he has you.”

“I can't.”

“Talk to him,” Taylor said.

“I can't.” I chewed, then swallowed. “I mean, I try, but he avoids the subject.”

“Let me tell you what to do. Wear an enticing outfit, flatter him, and then hit him up over dinner when there is nowhere else to go.” Taylor stood up. “He'll have to talk.”

“Sounds worth a try.” I nodded my head in agreement. “Thanks.”

“Hey, you're talking to the dude master.” Taylor spun around, letting her braids fly against her face.

“All right, dude master. I'll give it a try.” I poured myself a glass of skim milk and sat down at the rectangular table.

“Alex.”

“Yes?” I turned to face my sister.

“It ain't so bad talking to you when you're not preaching that I'm on my way to hell.” Taylor laughed.

“Yeah, and when you're not telling me to meet you there.” I let out a loud giggle.

My laughter was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. Instead of looking at the caller ID, I looked up at the clock. Maybe it was Joshua again, or worse yet, it was probably Daddy. It kept ringing as I swallowed hard.

I finally picked up the cordless phone and let out a deep breath when I heard my father's raspy voice. He had smoked cigars for forty-five years, and although, thankfully, he had given them up, the effects were still evident in his sound and in his persistent cough.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Daddy, I can't talk right now because I'm about to go out with Joshua.” I wasn't about to tell him about the engagement over the phone.

“Oh, uh . . . him.”

I held the phone and sighed.“Yes, Daddy, him.”

“Well, all right. I won't even ask about Taylor because I'm sure she's going out too.”

“Actually Daddy, she's not. Taylor isn't…”

Taylor signaled me that she didn't want to speak and Daddy told me the same. It was hard trying to mend broken relationships and theirs was no exception. Taylor had very little to say to Daddy since Mommy died. She clearly blamed him for her death as if she died of heartache instead of cancer. No one really understood Taylor's theory but we took it all in stride, usually just staying away from her. Taylor had an attitude no one in their right mind wanted to deal with.

“I'll talk to you later, Daddy. Love you.” I hung up the phone abruptly, wondering how I would break the news to him.

No, I hadn't told him about the engagement yet. I was sure he'd be upset because he thought Joshua's family was too arrogant. The one time he attended one of Pastor Bennings's services at Kingdom House of Prayer, he became offended at the man's preaching style, wardrobe, and demeanor. That was two months ago. Since then I hadn't heard anything encouraging about me being with Joshua. He didn't have anything against Joshua personally, but he believed I could find someone whose family was a little more down to earth. Time and time again I told him I wasn't in a relationship with Joshua's family, but you know fathers; he only understood what he perceived to be the best for me.

I showered and changed into a flowing, sleeveless dress. It was red, and I hoped it wasn't too bold for the occasion.“How do I look?”

“Cute, but not as cute as me.” Taylor quietly left the kitchen headed toward her bedroom as the doorbell rang. I went to answer it and let Joshua in.

“You look so good, baby.” He looked handsome in his beige and white pin striped suit.“So do you.” I let him kiss me on the cheek, grabbed my red clutch, and we were on our way to meet his parents and daughter at Mariachis Italian Restaurant.“So have you given any thought to the date for our wedding?” Joshua asked while staring straight ahead at the road.

“Well I—”

“I was thinking next month, the third.”

“Next month? But there is so much to do, so much to prepare. You know I want a good sized wedding, and that's not enough time to give everyone notice, including myself.”

“Have you told your father yet?”

“Well no, but you know he was well aware of your intentions when you took an interest in me. You were very straightforward with Daddy, telling him you wanted to court me with his permission, with the intention of possible marriage.” I was almost stuttering. “So that just about sums it up right there.”

“Yes, but he's got to be told that the courtship is over and that the engagement is on.”

“I'll tell him as soon as I get a chance to get over there.”

“It has been two days. He should already know by now.” Joshua's voice was cold.

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Are you stalling?”

“Of course not.”

Joshua looked over at me. “I mean, you don't want to tell your father. You're putting off our wedding indefinitely. You make me feel like you're not sure about marrying me.”

“Oh, that's one of the few things I am sure of; my love and commitment to you.”

“Then what's the problem?” Joshua took one hand off the wheel and put it in mine.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, sometimes I get these feelings like . . . never mind.”

“Let's do it in August, then.”

“But that's three months away.” Joshua parked the car.

“I'm not worth waiting three months for?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“I didn't say that. It's just that . . .”

I didn't let him speak. Instead, I pulled him close to me and covered his mouth with kisses.

“What was I saying again?” Joshua smiled. “We'll get married whenever you want.”

It was easy to distract him now, but I wondered how long it would last. His parents and daughter were already there as we entered the restaurant.

“Hello, dear.” Mrs. Bennings was svelte, stunning even. She gave me a peck on the cheek, and then grabbed my hand. “My, what a lovely little ring. I'm sure your father must be so proud.”

Little? Oh, no she didn't.
“It's so good to see you two again,” I said, almost blinded by the glare of her dangling diamond earrings and matching bracelet.

“How are you?” Pastor Bennings said, giving me a hug with his long arms. He was an incredibly tall man with a broad chest, and my big self almost felt tiny in his presence.

“I'm blessed, thank you,” I said.

“God is good all the time.” Pastor Bennings laughed.

“All the time, He is good,” Joshua said, pulling the chair out for his mother.

I looked down at Lilah. “Hi there, Lilah.” She was absolutely gorgeous, with big chestnut brown eyes, multiple dark wavy ponytails, and dimpled cheeks like her father's. Instantly, I wondered what her mother had looked like. I had never seen a picture, not even a glimpse of the woman whose shadow I was to walk in.

“Hi.” Lilah smiled. “I remember you from church.”

“That's right. I'm Sister Alex,” I said.

Lilah looked up into my eyes. “You sing in the choir, right?”

“Well, kind of. Actually, I sing with the praise team.”

“Oh.”

“How about you sit right here next to me so we can get to know each other better.”

“I don't want to sit next to you. I want to sit by my grandma.” Lilah poked out her lips.

“Lilah, that's not a nice thing to say.” Joshua gasped in horror.

“No, that's okay. She has the right to sit wherever she wants. Go on, sweetie.” I watched her pass me by and slip into a seat between her grandparents, trying to hide my embarrassment.

The four of us talked briefly about wedding planners, guest lists, and the inevitable engagement party, while Lilah entertained herself as most three-year-olds do. I smiled politely, made gracious comments to Lilah whenever the need arose, and managed to get through the evening fairly unscathed. I tried not to focus on their disapproving eyes or their condescending voices. I wanted only to be loving and kind as Jesus would have wanted me to be. That wasn't easy with the Bennings family, but I did it.

The evening seemed to be going well considering how badly I knew it could have gone. Then Mrs. Bennings insisted on raising her glass of sparkling water to make a toast. We all fixed our eyes on her and raised our glasses of fruit juices and soda. “To my precious son and his wife to be. May he be happier with this one than with that heathen of a woman he married the first time.”