The List (17 page)

W
e were at Lisa's house for girls' night. I shared with them my experiences with Jason and then Rayshawn, from the previous Friday night.

“Girl, you better watch your back. She sounds like a snake,” Lisa said.

Vanessa said, “What she sounds like is an insecure girl who, unfortunately, misuses her destructive habits and power to get her way. I agree that you need to watch your back, but at the same time, don't walk in fear. God has you there, and His favor is on you. She might be able to make it hard for you, but she can't stop you.”

Nicole gathered up our plates and took them to Lisa's kitchen sink. “Dang, too bad she has the hots for Jason. He sounds like your perfect man. He's everything on your list and is about as fine as it gets.”

I picked up the serving dishes and carried them to the kitchen counter. “Yeah. He's pretty perfect. But it's too sticky right now. Can't take that chance.” I told them about Ms. Carter's policy and Rayshawn's threats. “So I'm just gonna make myself forget about him.”

“Good luck with that,” Lisa said, fanning. “That man is too fine to forget.”

I looked down at my watch. “Where's Angela? Didn't she say she was coming?”

Lisa looked at the clock over the stove. “Yeah, she's not leaving for Augusta until tomorrow after work. I hope she's okay. I'll call and check on her.” Lisa flipped open her cell phone and walked down the hall.

Lisa returned moments later. “She's on her way. She wasn't gonna come, but I talked her into it. She sounded a little down, so I said she needed to come and let us cheer her up.”

“Yeah, she seemed kinda down in church on Sunday. During praise and worship, she just sat there in her seat the whole time and kept tearing up during the sermon.” It wasn't like Angela was one of those loud-praising people, but she usually participated by singing and lifting her hands with the rest of us.

We all moved into Lisa's living room and sat silent for a few minutes—fearing the worst, but not wanting to say it out loud. We'd wait for Angela to get there and confirm what we already knew.

About fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. Lisa led Angela into the living room. Angela sat on the edge of the loveseat and didn't even say hello.

“Angie, you okay?” Nicole asked.

She forced a smile and nodded. No giggles. No glow. She looked around the room at each one of us and burst into tears.

In a split second, Nicole was on one side of her and Vanessa on the other. I knelt in front of her, and we all gave her a group hug. She shook silently in our arms for what seemed like forever.

I knew exactly what she was feeling. We all did. I could almost feel each one of us reliving the first time we fell. The shock, the guilt, the shame. I couldn't imagine what that felt like at forty-one.

Lisa brought her some tissue, and we all moved back while she wiped her face and blew her nose. After a few minutes of sniffles, she finally spoke. “You guys were right. I should have listened.” That set her off into another round of deep sobs.

Vanessa cradled and rocked Angela like only a mother could, until her tears subsided.

“I don't understand how this happened,” she said in a tear-soaked voice. “One minute we were hugging and kissing, and the next minute I looked up and our clothes were off. It was like a split second. And he kept asking me if he should stop, and for some reason I couldn't get my lips to say yes. And then afterward, we sat there looking at each other like, ‘What just happened?' It was . . .” Angela's voice trailed off, and she shook her head in disbelief. “I felt so awful all week. The worst part is you guys told me and I didn't believe you.”

Vanessa wiped away the new tears flowing down her cheeks. “No sense in beating yourself up about it now, sweetie.”

Angela nodded and blew her nose again. “I kept crying and Gary kept trying to comfort me. He felt so bad. I didn't want to make him feel worse, but I couldn't stop crying. I can't believe this happened.”

Vanessa lifted Angela's chin to make her look at her. “Sweetie, I know this is hard, but you can't let yourself get overwhelmed with guilt. The enemy would love to drive a wedge of guilt and shame between you and God and make you feel like you can't pray and you can't talk to Him. The worst thing you can do right now is avoid God. You need to run into His arms and let Him love you. I know you've already repented, so now you just need to let Him love you.”

I grabbed Angela's hand. “And don't apologize over and over. You've repented, so accept His forgiveness and move on.”

Vanessa cut in, “Yeah, because the way the enemy works is to cut you off by making you feel guilty, and unfortunately, that guilt is the very thing that will make you end up right there again.”

Angela's eyes flew open. “Again? I'm not gonna do that again. As bad as I felt all week, there's no way that could ever happen again.”

Vanessa shook her head. “Sweetie, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but there is a way it could happen again. You and Gary love each other. It's just natural for a man and woman in love to want to express their intimacy. It's actually unnatural, this dance we Christians do of avoiding sex in a loving, committed relationship. And by that I mean, you have to go against everything in your human nature not to do it. I know you feel awful now, but trust me, your body wants it again and again, and if you give it a chance, it will happen.”

Angela shook her head back and forth so hard, I thought she would shake her brain loose. “Never—there's no way I would do that again. And Gary wouldn't let it happen again either. You should have seen his face. He couldn't even go to church on Sunday.”

“That's exactly what I'm talking about,” Vanessa said. “We fall, and then we let the sin drive us away from God, and He's the only one who can keep us from sinning again. It's this awful vicious cycle. Sin leads to guilt, which makes us move away from God—which opens the door for more sin, which leads to more guilt, which makes us move even further from God and over and over, until we get to the point where He can't reach us to help us out of our sin.”

Angela got up and paced across Lisa's living room. “That's not gonna happen. Tomorrow night, me and Gary are going to have a long talk about the whole thing. We'll pray together, and this will never happen again.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows. “You're going down there this weekend?”

Angela nodded. “Yeah. We need to talk about it. I left abruptly, and I was hurt and he was hurt, and things have been real weird on the phone all week. I need to talk to him in person, so we can straighten this whole thing out and put it behind us and move on with our relationship.” Angela started crying again. “I can't lose him. I love him too much.”

We sat there silent. The only sound in the room was the gentle whir of the ceiling fan overhead.

Vanessa finally said, “If you guys need to talk, have him come up here and stay in the hotel, and you guys talk in a neutral place. You don't need to be going down to his house and be alone having this conversation.

“I can't believe you guys think I'm gonna do it again. Don't you see my face? I've cried every day this week. I just need to make sure he still loves me.”

Lisa walked over and gently took Angela's hand. “Don't take this as an ‘I told you so,' but we did, and you didn't listen. We're trying to tell you what's next, and once again, you're not listening. Please, Angela, hear us. We've all been where you are before, and we know what comes next.”

“I can't believe you guys are judging me. I'm not that kind of person. It was a mistake. I knew I shouldn't have come here.” Angela picked up her purse and stormed toward the door.

Before any one of us realized what was happening, she was gone. We sat there staring at each other for a few minutes.

Finally Nicole let out a low whistle. “Whew, what was that all about?”

Vanessa let out a breath. “Honestly? It's a spirit of pride making her think more highly of herself than she ought. I guess she had gotten a little self-righteous about the fact that she was still a virgin at her age. She probably judged other people who fell into sexual sin. Now, the same spirit of judgment she had toward them, she's turning on herself. Thinking she was above falling was and, unfortunately, still is her problem.”

“Yeah, the word says pride goeth before a fall. Until she realizes she's a mere mortal with sexual urges like the rest of us, I'm afraid she'll continue to fall,” I said.

Nicole hugged her legs to her chest and leaned back against Lisa's couch. “So what's she supposed to do? You know, this male-female relationship in Christianity thing is all new to me. I've never been in a situation where I had to try not to have sex, but I can't imagine how she'll do that, now that's she's done it. Especially with what Vanessa said about the vicious cycle. What's she supposed to do? Not see him anymore?”

We all looked at Vanessa.

Vanessa thought for a minute. “No, they shouldn't break up because they messed up. They love each other. That's why they messed up in the first place. I know he's hinted at marriage. At this point, they pretty much have to move in that direction.”

Nicole frowned. “They have to get married just because they had sex? They've only been dating for three months. Isn't that too soon to get married? Didn't we say that Michelle shouldn't have married her ex just to avoid burning?”

“That's different,” I said. “We were kids and didn't know anything. Gary and Angela got together under the premise of moving toward marriage. They're mature adults.”

Nicole said, “But shouldn't you make sure you get to know that person first? What if there's some stuff about Gary that Angela doesn't know that would come out later that would make it clear that he's not the one?”

We all sat quiet for a few minutes.

Lisa said, “A good friend of mine always had this thing when she started to get know a guy and she thought he might be a possibility. She would go out with him for a while, get to know him, see if he met every requirement on her list. Then she would pray this prayer: ‘God, you know me and you know him. You know what the outcome of a marriage between us would be. I trust that you know what's best for me. If he's not what's best for me, bring this relationship to a screeching halt. Get rid of any and every guy that's not your best for me.' She said it worked. The men dropped like flies. And later she'd find out something about them would have been a deal-breaker. Until finally the right one came along. She fell head over heels in love with him, but still prayed that prayer over and over. Instead of him dropping off, they got closer and closer. Finally, one day he said, ‘You're trying to get rid of me in the Spirit, and I'm not going anywhere. God told me the first day we met that you were my wife, so you can forget it. You're mine.' They've been happily married for eight years.”

We all nodded. I made a mental note to use that prayer, should I ever get up the nerve to date again.

Nicole said, “That doesn't fix Angela's situation. What are she and Gary supposed to do?”

“Once you cross that line, it's difficult to go back,” Vanessa said. “They almost can't be alone together for any long period of time. They have to start moving in the direction of marriage.”

“So you're saying it's impossible for them to be in a relationship and not keep having sex?” Nicole asked.

“Not impossible, but difficult,” Vanessa said.”

“It can't be that hopeless. My friend Raquel met her husband and they dated a year and never even kissed each other. And my friend Teresa and her husband dated and got engaged over about a ten-month period, and they never fell. So it's possible.”

“Yeah, but they never fell. Once you fall, it's like an addiction.”

We all sat there, I guess, pondering the seriousness of it all. If I did ever decide to date again, I'd go from fighting the lonely monster full-time and the horny monster two days a month to a full all-out war with the horny monster. And for real, I couldn't imagine being in love with someone and not being able to have sex with them. How was I supposed to make it?

It was pure torture. Which was worse? Being desperate and lonely and desiring a husband, or having a man and facing the risk of falling and ruining my relationship with God—the most important thing in my life?

It wasn't anything I felt like dealing with, so I solidified my decision to not date anymore.

A
couple of weeks later, we had auditions for
Indie Artist
at the station. Erika had posted flyers at some of the city's hottest independent artists' spots and put an ad in
Creative Loafing
. I hoped we'd get enough of a showing that we would be able to pick some good acts. If we didn't get enough people, we'd spend a few nights at Apache Café, Sugar Hill, and Café 290 to see if we could recruit some more.

Just as I was about to relax and sip my morning chamomile, Erika rushed into my office. “Oh my goodness, there's about forty people outside already. We'll be here until tomorrow.”

“Really? Wow. Okay, is everything set up?” I put down my mug and followed her downstairs to the studio. Sure enough, there was a line flowing down the hall. It was going to be a long day.

Me, Jason, and Erika sat in the three chairs pulled up to a table in front of the sound stage. Mark stopped by to say that he'd be in and out, but for the most part, he was leaving things in my capable hands.

After the first three auditions, I realized the day was going to be longer than I thought. I felt like we were Randy, Paula, and Simon during the initial
American Idol
auditions. It amazed me that some of the “artists” were unable to hear that their singing sounded like someone killing a cat. And they didn't have a parent, sister, or friend who would tell them the truth.

After enduring the first two auditions for far too long, I decided that if someone opened their mouth and sounded awful, I'd cut them off quickly. At first, the notion of being mean bothered me, but I decided I was doing them a favor—helping them realize they didn't need to be trying to sing.

We did have some good acts. There was this young girl with a bright red afro named Eva Kennedy that sang a Tina Turner song better than Tina herself. She sang deep from her soul and gave me goose bumps. If she was singing gospel, I would have said she was anointed. Her voice and passion hit me deep in the pit of my stomach. I knew she'd do a great show. Then there was this girl duo—Venus 7, they called themselves—with amazing harmonies and lyrics, and an eclectic style that would fit the show perfectly.

We had a few other promising ones that I wanted to see perform on stage in front of a crowd, to get a better feel for their vibe. There were some that could really sing, but there was nothing interesting or special enough about them that would make a full episode of a show worthwhile.

After a lunch break and a few more hours of “American Idol rejects,” and several more stunning performances, I was ready to call it quits for the day. We had at least ten people I thought would work. We could hang out in clubs to find the other three needed for a full season of the show.

I stretched my arms upward. “I'm ready to end it, guys. I'm exhausted and I'm getting a headache.”

Erika scrunched up her face. “It wouldn't be fair not to see the rest of the people, though. They've been waiting all day.”

“You guys want to finish seeing them without me? If there's anybody good, you can call me back down. Please? I can't take another one.”

Jason rubbed my back. “Sure, we got it. Go take a break.”

I was going to have to talk to him about his touchy-feelyness. He didn't know how crazy he was driving me. Erika was smirking behind him. I couldn't glare at her like I wanted to because he was looking straight at me.

I trudged up to my office and laid my head on my desk for a second. It was hard to relax because my mind was racing with ideas for the shows. Where we'd tape—whether we'd try to decorate the studio like an eclectic club or tape at one of the spots in Atlanta. How much could we budget for a house band? I thumbed through some of the artists' press kits, thinking about how we'd tell each person's story, to make it compelling.

I stopped for a second and smiled when it hit me. I had my own show. I was doing something I had dreamed of. And if God was faithful enough to make that dream come true, what else did He have up His sleeve? I had a Romans 8:28 moment—somehow deep down, I was sure God was working out everything in my life for good. I knew if I continued to delight myself in Him, He would continue to give me the desires of my heart.

My phone rang. It was Erika calling from downstairs. “Yeah?”

“You gotta come down. This guy is the best all day. You'll love him. He's perfect.”

I hung up and let out a deep breath.

When I walked back into the studio, a serious piece of eye candy stood talking to Erika and Jason. I tried not to notice how cute he was, but it was rather impossible. He was gorgeous. Not in that polished, clean-cut way. He had that artistic thing going on. Nice brown skin, eyes that laughed, five o'clock shadow with a goatee. His long locks that flowed down his back were thin and well-groomed. When he turned to me and smiled, I thought I would die.

“Isaiah Thompson.” He held out his hand.

I shook his hand and smiled back. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming in.”

“My pleasure.” He held my hand with a firm grip.

We locked eyes for a second, and I knew I was being silly, but it felt like instant chemistry.

He smelled like this African musk oil I had tried one day while shopping in Little Five Points. I remembered sniffing my arm the whole afternoon, thinking about how sexy it would smell on a man. He had on worn Levi's and a T-shirt that read, “Music Is My Life.” A guitar was slung over his shoulder.

He went back up onto the stage, and Erika passed me his press kit. I glanced at his bio page. He described his music as folk gospel—not a genre I had heard of before. His influences ranged from Bob Marley to Andre Crouch to Donnie Hathaway. He had been raised by missionary parents all over Africa and South America, which he said colored his music and world view as well. He seemed to be an interesting guy, which would make for a great show.

“Umm, I guess I should play a little something for you?” he said when I finished perusing his info.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He strummed his guitar a little, adjusted the tuning and then strummed a little more. He had beautiful, strong-looking hands. He played a few chords and started to sing. His voice was raspy and deep—caused a little tingle that started from my toes. He sang a chorus about the beauty of God's presence.

When he was finished, I had to work hard to find words. “Wow. Very nice. Thank you. I think you'd be great for the show. I'm looking forward to listening to your CD.” I pulled it out of the press kit.

“I can do you better than that. I'll be performing at Apache Café this Friday, so you can get a taste of it live. That is, if you're not busy this weekend. I don't want to be presumptuous in assuming you don't already have plans.”

Was he flirting with me? “I'll have to check my calendar.”

Erika spoke up. “Her schedule is clear. We'll be there.”

He chuckled and smiled.

That smile. I didn't know if it was the lonely monster or the horny monster, but this guy was getting under my skin a little too much, a little too quick. There was this energy about him that filled the room.

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for coming in. We've got quite a few more people to go, so we'd better keep moving. We'll be in touch with you soon.” He walked over to the stage, shook hands with Isaiah and led him to the door.

Erika raised her eyebrows at Jason then turned to me. She pursed her lips and gave me a what's-up-with-that look. I shrugged it off, but did think Jason was a bit abrupt.

Erika picked up Isaiah's press kit and put it in my hand with a devilish grin. “So, what time should I meet you at Apache on Friday night?”