One Prayer Away (7 page)

Grandma Kate had been different. Mitchell couldn't think of a time when he'd ever heard her use any foul language. She referred to such as unladylike. But apparently she didn't feel the same way about lying. Kate would tell an
untruth without thinking twice about it. She'd say she spent all day looking for something when she'd actually spent the day in front of the television set, or she would tell a friend who called that she had company, when, in reality, she just didn't want to talk to the person. Mitchell had been sharing the couch with her once as she watched one of her favorite soap operas when his grandfather called. One of the first things Grandpa Isaac would ask when he phoned home was, “What's going on at the house?” This particular day, his grandmother told him she was starting dinner and had just put the pots on the stove. Mitchell hadn't even looked away from the television screen. Grandma Kate had told “little lies” like that all the time, so to hear her spit out one on a moment's notice was no surprise.

Grandpa Isaac had referred to church as “organized religion.” Preachers, in his eyes, were all crooks in suits, and the people who gathered to listen to them each week were pathetic and gullible. He said he believed in God but could serve Him right in the comfort of his home, and if anyone ever accused him of not being a Christian, he'd cuss that person out too. The few times that Mitchell had gone to church, he'd done so with his grandmother, but they were all to pay respects to the dead. If Kate knew somebody who was third cousin to the deceased, she'd be there, dressed in black and weeping into a handkerchief as though it were a personal loss. Most times her crying was dignified and quiet, but if it was one of those funerals where the mourners got carried away, Grandma Kate would not be upstaged. She could howl, grab caskets, and pass out with the best of them, and every once in a while, she did.

When Mitchell and Virtue got married, Virtue's childhood pastor conducted the ceremony in the Detroit church where her parents still attended. It was the first time in Mitchell's life that he could remember stepping foot in a church wherein everybody was alive and well.

When he'd first walked through the doors of Living Word Cathedral three years ago, Mitchell felt a bit out of place. He knew worshiping was something people did regularly, but it wasn't the norm for him. He was twenty-eight years old at the time but felt like a child who'd just entered his kindergarten classroom for the very first time. Aside from Chris's, every face in the building was strange; and when the preacher spoke, every word seemed to be directed at him. Mitchell had wanted to grab a blanket, stick his thumb in his mouth, and retreat into the nearest corner; but Chris insisted that he not only sit through the service, but meet Rev. Inman personally afterward.

In an instant, Mitchell felt comfortable when he shook the smiling preacher's hand. After attending that first time, he knew he'd be returning the following Sunday and the Sunday after that. Ultimately, he joined the ministry and had missed very few services since. As he now looked at the words in the Bible that he held in his hand, Mitchell smiled in reflection. He wondered what his grandfather would think if he could see him sitting in a church and absorbing the words that Rev. Inman spoke.

“Where are you running off to?”

The familiar voice stopped Mitchell as he neared the parking lot to head for his truck after the benediction had been given. He turned around to look into the face of one of the prettiest women he'd met since moving back to his hometown. At times, Mitchell still had lingering doubts about Lisa Edwards and her loyalty to his best friend; but she made Chris happy, and in the end, that was all that mattered. Breaking into a grin that he hoped didn't carry shadows of his doubt, Mitchell reached out and accepted the offered embrace from the woman who would become Mrs. Jackson just before Valentine's Day.

“Hey,” he responded. “Where's Chris?”

The bulk of Mitchell's doubt was rooted in the way Lisa interacted with him, especially when Chris wasn't
around. Mitchell had tried to define her playful winks and frequent touches as harmless flirting or as a part of her friendly personality. But sometimes he found it hard to convince himself that all of it was done in innocence. Her bold reactions seemed tailor-made just for him and only seemed to happen when Chris was nowhere in sight. To say that Lisa made him uncomfortable was an overstatement, but Mitchell did become uneasy at times, especially when they were not in the presence of others, as they were right now.

“He's in that crowd somewhere,” she responded, nodding her head toward the open doors of the church. “Where are you headed? You're not gonna hang with us this afternoon? Chris and I are going to grab something to eat.”

The position of third wheel was getting old, and Mitchell was ready to resign. He'd been the odd man out ever since Chris and Lisa began dating a year and a half ago. Once they married, he knew he couldn't continue to spend his weekends with them, so it was best to begin the weaning process while the choice was still his. He'd made preparations to eat at home today.

“I marinated some seafood last night,” he told her while simultaneously shaking his head. “I think I'm gonna just dine in today.”

Lisa took a quick look around as though making sure her response couldn't be overheard. Apparently not satisfied with their degree of privacy, she grabbed Mitchell by the arm and led him closer to the parked cars. Mitchell braced himself for what he thought would be one of her advances.

“Is it because of
her
?” Lisa stressed the pronoun as though hearing her name might rub Mitchell the wrong way. “Do you not want to go out because you think you'll see her again?”

Mitchell gave a short laugh. It was no surprise to him
that Chris had shared the confidential information with his fiancée. “Lisa, if I thought I'd have the chance to see Virtue again by going out with you guys, I'd go in a heartbeat. Maybe I'd get the chance to save face for what happened the last time.” Mitchell noticed Lisa's grimace, but continued. “I'm just not really in the mood for eating out today. Besides, I have some things that I need to take care of.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes and peered up at him, obviously unconvinced that he was being completely honest with her. “What things?”

At thirty-three, Lisa was a year older than Chris, but she could pass for a woman in her midtwenties. Like Virtue, she stood at five feet eight inches with the help of three-inch heels, and her fair-skinned, cosmetic-free face was decorated with freckles just around her nose. She had brown eyes and wore her reddish, natural hair in locks that were about ten inches in length and dangled just above her shoulders. She was quite the attractive one, but she could also be meddlesome.

When he made no attempt to answer her question, Lisa delivered a painless punch to his arm and continued. “And why didn't you tell me you used to be married? I could have been a good ear for you. You know I was married before too. We could have shared stories about our ex's. I know I could have told you a few that would probably make the hairs stand up on your head.” She took a quick look around and then leaned in closer and whispered, “And I could also tell you a few that would make you blush.”

Taking a step backward, Mitchell shifted his position and pulled his arm away from the uncomfortable touch that Lisa hadn't ended since she jabbed him. “My failed marriage isn't exactly something I'm proud of, Lisa. I was at fault for losing Virtue, and that's not something I want to sit around and discuss on a regular basis.”

“Oh, please,” she said with a carefree wave of her hand.
“Everybody fails at something in their lifetime. It's no different. That's how we grow as Christians, Mitchell. We can't wallow in our failures. We'll never move on if we don't get over our pasts, and what better way to get over it than by talking about it?”

“I suppose.” Mitchell shrugged. “I have to admit that I did feel a bit better after talking to Chris.”

“Talking to Christopher is good. But sometimes you need to talk to someone who can relate. You know, someone who's been where you've been and knows where it is that you're trying to go.” Lisa's hand was back on Mitchell's arm. “Sometimes it helps when the person you're talking to has faced the same fears and endured the same loneliness that you have.”

Her words sounded genuine, but there was a level of suggestiveness in Lisa's tone that Mitchell couldn't ignore. It wasn't a first for her. She did it all the time, and just like in times before, Mitchell chose not to say anything that might encourage her to continue. His unresponsiveness was intended to make her change the subject, but when he did not readily reply, Lisa reached deeper.

“The ‘L word' has a way of making a man clam up,” she said. “Most women think that love is the hardest thing for a man to talk about, but I've found that
loneliness
is the emotion that they are most afraid of. See how you totally shut down at the mention of it? Christians get lonely too, Mitchell, and there's nothing wrong with it. It's a human emotion, but it's not one that you have to shy away from talking about. That's what I mean when I say that you need to talk to someone who's been where you are. I've been there, Mitchell. Sometimes I still deal with it, and I could certainly use somebody like you to help me. So anytime you feel . . . lonely, you can always come to me. I'm here for you. You know, whenever you need to talk . . . or whatever.”

It was the sound of the “or whatever” that troubled him the most. More than anything, Mitchell wanted Chris
to show up. An overwhelming sense of relief engulfed him when he looked out into the distance and saw his friend walk out onto the porch of the church.

Steady streams of people, satisfied with their chance to talk to Rev. Inman, were filing from the double-glass doors that led to the outside. Children had begun running through the grass, unfazed by the dropping outside temperature. The lengthy service seemed to have given them a new appreciation for the outdoors. While some members lingered and chatted, others made quick beelines for their cars to avoid the cold.

One couple in particular caught Mitchell's eye as they walked hand in hand toward the street. They only lived a block away and generally walked to Sunday morning services. Even in the nippy weather, they seemed to be in no hurry to get home. Their love and the company of each other was enough to supply the warmth they needed.

Hearing her call his name, Mitchell turned back to Lisa.

“Are you mad at me now?” she asked. “I didn't mean to upset you. I know men can be egotistical and don't particularly like to be reminded of their weaknesses. I'm sorry if I offended you. I was just trying to help.”

“I'm not mad at you, Lisa. I'm just not in the mood to talk about Virtue right now.”

“Who's talking about Virtue? I'm not in the mood to talk about her either. I can relate to that too. I don't want to talk about my ex either. Felander's not worth my breath, let alone my time. And look at that! We've got another thing in common. Both our ex's have crazy names. I thought Felander had a jacked-up name, but what drunk woman would name her daughter something like Virtue?”

The line had been crossed, but before Mitchell could respond, Chris trotted across the lawn and came to a breathless rest at the back of the car where the two of them stood. It was difficult, but Mitchell forced a smile through
the heat of his anger and accepted the brotherly pound that Chris offered.

“What's up, man?” Chris said, panting. “For a minute, I thought that you had missed church today. You were even later than usual.”

“I overslept,” Mitchell explained. “I made it in time to hear the message, though.”

“Well, the future Mrs. and I are going to get a bite to eat,” Chris said as he slipped his arm around his fiancée and pulled her closer to him. “You can hop in the car with us and we'll bring you back to get your truck afterwards.”

“Yeah, Mitch. We'd love to have you join us.”

I'll bet you would,
Mitchell thought and then immediately punished himself inwardly for thinking the worst of Lisa's urging. He knew lots of women who had the tendency to be overly friendly. That didn't mean that they were offering themselves for a deeper relationship with every guy they flirted with. Chris had the intelligence of a Yale graduate. He would know if his girl was capable of being unfaithful.

“Come on, Mitch,” Lisa urged, touching his arm again. This time her touch didn't have the same feel as the ones she'd given prior to Chris's arrival. This time, it didn't challenge Mitchell's comfort level.

“No thanks, guys. I'll pass today but maybe later.”

Chris looked at him in disbelief. “You're not eating? You sick or something?”

Laughing at his friend's expression, Mitchell shook his head. “I didn't say I wasn't going to eat; I just meant that I'd pass on eating out.”

Although he didn't do it often, Mitchell was a superb cook who had learned almost everything he knew about meal preparation from his grandmother. The spicy oven-fried tilapia that he had planned for today was one of Grandma Kate's favorites. He'd cooked it for Virtue on
their first date. It was one of her favorites too. At least, it used to be.

“You sure, man?” Chris asked. “We don't have to go to Bob's today. We can go somewhere else if you like.”

Mitchell smiled but shook his head, declining once more. He was tempted to try one last time to convince both of them that his refusal of their invitation had nothing to do with seeing Virtue, but it wasn't worth the trouble. It was clear to Mitchell that his friends would never really understand the place he was in. The sighting of his wife didn't make him want to hide from her. Instead, it had renewed his quest to find her and clear his conscience.