Boaz Brown (4 page)

“I dated a white man once, thinking things would be different,”
 
Deniessa
 
admitted. “I actually thought that because he was white, he had money lying around somewhere that he could borrow against to repay the series of small loans I made to him. Shows you how ignorant I was—that joker turned out to be the biggest overgrown mooch that ever lived.”

“Deniessa, I don’t know you very well, but I’m
 
gonna
 
tell you something that it took me several heartaches to learn: you teach men how to treat you. You taught Jamal that you were available to him in every way, with or without a commitment, and you probably taught that white guy the same thing.”

“But is it my
 
job
 
to teach a full grown man?”
 
Deniessa
 
sighed. “Why can’t they just come ready?”

“See, that’s what I’m
 
talkin’ about.” Peaches nodded her head. “I want me one that’s already housebroken, okay?”

“That’s why I’m waiting on my Boaz.” I nodded and smiled. “He’s the epitome of my Mr. Right. I figure, if God can make a Boaz for Ruth, He can make another one for me.”

“Who’s Boaz?”
 
Deniessa
 
asked.

“Boaz was a man in the Bible—the Book of Ruth, to be exact,” I explained.
 
“The original knight in shining armor.
 
Boaz was an honorable, compassionate, rich man.”

Deniessa
 
stopped me. “Okay, see, we already got a problem right there. How many rich men—or semi-established men—still have honor? Nine times out of ten, he’s had to stomp on a few heads to get to the top.”

“That’s how it goes with your
 
average
 
man.
 
But not with a Boaz.
 
See, Boaz was wealthy, but he treated his servants well. He even took consideration of the people who came around to glean the fields after his servants had gathered the harvest. That’s how Ruth, a widow, crossed his path. Boaz liked what he’d heard of Ruth’s commitment to her mother-in-law after all the men in their family died.”

Deniessa
 
jumped in. “Oh, I’m starting to remember this story. Didn’t he tell his servants to leave extra for Ruth to gather and not to embarrass her?”

“Not only that,” Peaches added, “but he told the men not to mess with her and to let her drink from their water jars when she got thirsty. Ha! See, that’s what I’m talking about. Look out for your
 
woman!”

“I know, girl.” I placed a hand over my heart. “That brother has got to have my back, okay?”

 
“So what happened next?”
 
Deniessa
 
squinted
 
her eyes, as though she might already know the wonderful ending.

“Well, to make a long story short,” I continued, “even though nothing happened between Ruth and Boaz, they had a little chemistry going. I mean, it would be hard not to like somebody who’s always doing nice things for you. So Ruth let it be known to Boaz that she was his servant for life and that she wanted him to make her his woman since, legally, he did have a right to her. Now, you have to understand: this conversation took place in the middle of the night while the two of them were all alone.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Talk about your temptation.” Peaches smiled.

“But Boaz made a decision to honor her by going through the proper channels before taking her as his wife. Back then, when a woman’s husband died before they had a son, the man who was next of kin was supposed to marry that widow, and their firstborn son would carry on in the dead man’s name. Boaz was kin to Ruth, but there was another man who was more closely related to Ruth’s husband, so Boaz had to clear up that matter first.

“Boaz didn’t waste any time—he got up and found that man the very next morning and asked him if he was going to purchase the land and perform the duties of the next of kin for Ruth. Only after the closest kinsman declined to purchase the land, with Ruth, did Boaz make his move and take Ruth as his wife.”

“That’s what makes the difference,” Peaches commented as she turned to face
 
Deniessa. “A real man, like Boaz, treats people right—from the servants to the family. That man could have and probably wanted to get down and dirty with Ruth that night. But Boaz knew that he had a conscience to deal with and a God to answer to. You can’t beat integrity, girl.”

“That’s what I mean when I say I’m waiting on my Boaz. I want someone who’s gonna treat me right and act right. Now, is that too much to ask?”

“I hear you,”
 
Deniessa
 
added. “I need me a Boaz, too.”

I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. “A modern-day Boaz has been through enough tests to know that God is his source, and he knows a woman of God when he sees her—I, of course, am that woman.” I released my knees and pointed at myself. Peaches and
 
Deniessa
 
laughed at my fake princess wave. “I’m
 
gonna
 
be like, ‘Hey, baby, you found me!”

“Okay, that’s what you want him to be like on the inside. But you’ll never get to the inside if you don’t like what you see on the outside.”
 
Deniessa
 
snapped her fingers. “Let’s be for real here: unless he comes up to you with a Bible in hand and his suit coat draped over a puddle of water, you won’t know the first thing about what’s going on inside without first working through what you see. Keep it real, now.”

I took a deep breath and gave in to her. “Okay, okay, okay. If we can become friends first, and I get to know him without the pressure of an exclusive dating relationship, then the face-and-body thing will be secondary.”

“So what you’re saying is,
 
a relationship with an ugly brother would have to kind of sneak up on you?” Peaches summarized.

“You did not have to say it like that.” I rolled my eyes at her.

“It’s the truth!” She teased me.

“It’s the truth with you, too,” I laughed with Peaches.

“Hey, I’m not the one up here saying he’s got to be Jesus’ little brother for me to get with him. As far as I can tell, your main physical request is that he’s a black man.”

“Well, that part goes without saying,” I said, sighing. “I just want the right man, you know? The man God has for me.”

 
“Well, the pool is getting pretty shallow. Half our brothers ain’t
 
tryin’ to get with sisters,” Peaches pointed out.

“Whatever.” I shook my head. “That’s their problem. I’m
 
holdin’ out. They say there’s somebody for everybody.”

“It’s just so hard, you know?” Peaches commented in all seriousness.
 
“Trying to live right and date seriously in this world today.
 
On one hand, you want to do God’s will. On the other hand, you just want to get this whole dating thing over with already. I don’t know about you two, but I get tired of wondering
 
what’s gonna
 
happen.

“If somebody would say to me right now, ‘Peaches, you’re
 
gonna
 
be single all your life,’ I would have no problem whatsoever with that. I would put a whole lot more into my retirement; I’d go ahead and buy a house for me and my son; I would find a good travel agent and get set to live my life as a single woman. No problem. But I feel like I’m in limbo now.”

“Yeah, limbo is for real. I really thought that letting Jamal move in would speed me on down the aisle. It went against everything I was taught. My grandmother always said that ‘shackin’ up’ was synonymous with living in sin. I’ve lived these last three years in constant denial spiritually. It would be different if I had seen my aunts and cousins living with men, but I didn’t. I
 
knew
 
better. But it just seems like none of my grandmother’s warnings could compete with the comforts of a man.”

“Oh, girl, I feel you.” I gave her a high five. “Once your flesh gets hooked on that feeling, it’s hard to stop.”
 

Mmm,” Peaches let out a judgmental moan and stuck her lips out.

“Ooh,
 
Peaches,
 
don’t even go there,” I confronted her. “Let the record show, I tried to tell you that you were out there with Raphael, okay? Wide open! Whipped!”

“No, I’m not the one who was whipped; it was this one here!” Peaches pointed at me. “This girl called in
 
sick
 
on several occasions so she could
 
lay
 
up with—what was his name?”

James Perkins.
 
“I’m not saying his name.” I put my head in my hands, laughing and dreading the memory simultaneously. I met James when I was twenty-two—just out of college and barely into my own apartment. Ours was a relationship that started out appropriately enough as fellow Jarvis Christian College graduates who’d learned we would be working in the same school district. We’d exchanged phone numbers and, during the first semester of teaching, spoke often about the challenges of being a first-year teacher.

“What started out as shared employment quickly became shared bedrooms as I allowed the relationship to progress further than I intended, with the excuse that we were “there for each other.” The intense pleasure of sharing sex with someone I knew made it seem “okay.” Like it couldn’t be that wrong, especially if I cared about him.

If there was any one “gateway” relationship that started my spiritual hiatus and consequent heartaches, it was the one I had with James Perkins. I wasn’t a virgin when I started sleeping with James, but he was the first to send off all the bells and whistles in my body.
 
The short-lived relationship with James Perkins opened a can of worms that almost cost me my life.
 
But God...

“It was James Perkins!” Peaches exclaimed after a few moments of thought. “Yeah, that’s right.
 
Old Perky.”
 
Peaches erupted in laughter, and I had to join her. God had brought us both a long way from our James and Raphael days.

“No, you’re the one who all but kicked me and your family to the curb because we tried to tell you that Raphael was nothing but trouble. But no! You wouldn’t hear of it!”
 

Peaches yelled, “Don’t talk about my baby’s daddy!”

 
“No,” I stopped her, “don’t bring Eric into it. This is about hardheaded Patricia Miller. We told you Raphael was
 
runnin’ game, but you were ‘in love’ and he was ‘fine’ and he was the first one to tell you that you were ‘fine’ after you lost all that weight.”