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Authors: Ashea S. Goldson

BOOK: Count It All Joy
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Chapter Fifteen
Alex
 
The week after the vacation, life went back to being stressful. As soon as we returned, we had messages from his mother about his father's condition, messages from the church about the various tasks that needed to be done, and worst of all, messages reminding us of Dr. Henley's appointments. Needles, consultations, and timing ovulation. I felt like my whole world was spinning out of control. Couldn't a sister just savor some of that sweetness from Atlantic City?
Didn't I deserve that? I never expected things to turn dry so soon. Don't get me wrong. Joshua tried to be attentive, but it was more about his motives than his actions. I knew that all his tenderness was just to get an heir out of me. A healthy, hopefully baby boy to carry on the traditions of his stuck-up family. And yada, yada, yada, I thought to myself. To tell the truth, I was so fed up, I wasn't sure I even had it in me anymore.
On a better note, work kept me too busy to focus on myself. There was one thing I knew about working at a Christian college or theological seminary, since I had worked at Missionary for so many years; there were plenty of opportunities for learning. I had access to professors and their curriculum, whether it was in Christian counseling, Christian theology, divinity, Bible, youth ministry, or many other areas. And sometimes if I was really diligent, with all the Word going forth through books and papers, I could get a revelation from the written Word. Now that I was at a crossroads in my life, I needed more than just the written Word. I needed a
rhema,
a word
directly
from God.
One afternoon, Marisol and I went out for lunch. I bundled up in my pink shearling jacket, and Marisol threw on her long goose down coat. Complete with hoods on heads and gloves on hands, we walked two blocks over to a little café we liked. When we finally reached the storefront, we ordered two cappuccinos and two club sandwiches.
We sat down in a corner booth and waited patiently for a waitress with a Mohawk, six earrings in each ear, two in her nose, and a tattoo around her entire neck to bring our order.
Marisol wasted no time before she said exactly what was on her mind. “So I've got to stop dating all these losers and get me a husband like yours.”
I twisted my lips. “Don't rush it, girl. Marriage is a lot of work.”
“Yeah, but it's also a lot of fun, isn't it?”
“It has its moments.”
“I'll bet,” Marisol winked at me with her fake eyelashes.
“I'd say just let it happen naturally.” I remembered the short courtship that Joshua and I had before our engagement, and suddenly, I wished it had been longer. Maybe then, I would've known my husband better.
“I'm just checking out my options, you know.”
“Look, you're pretty, funny, and smart. Any guy in his right mind would be honored to get with you,” I said.
“Yeah? Maybe you should tell
them
that.” Marisol threw her head back, laughing.
The waitress delivered our meal, and I devoured it like I hadn't eaten in months. I felt like such a pig minutes later, watching Marisol's dainty eating habits. That explained why she was able to maintain her size six figure, and I was always stuck teetering on the edge of the plus sizes. Why did I get so carried away at the sight of food?
Emotional overeating again
.
Marisol took a sip from her cup. “I mean, if a guy isn't marriage material, then why would I want to date him in the first place?”
“Right, right.” Only the Lord knew how many times I had made that mistake before.
“I mean, I already have all the male companions I could ever want. I don't need any more friends. I'm looking for a mate, and I'm serious about that.”
“Well, just remember that the scripture says ‘
he
who findeth a wife findeth a good thing.' Just make sure you're in a good position to
be found
,” I said.
“I hear what you're saying. Sometimes when I'm lonely though, I try to help God out a little.”
“Uh-uh. Wrong move, girl.” I laughed.
At that moment, the door opened and in walked Seger with a tall, exotic-looking young woman. I put my cup down and stared. The woman looked like she was about twenty-five years old, with an oval-shaped face, high cheekbones, and dark, catlike eyes. She was so pretty she made models for Covergirl look ugly. She wore what looked like at least three-inch stilettos and a white body-hugging dress that accentuated her smooth dark chocolate skin tone. The dress came way above the knees, showing off her endless legs. Her hair, which didn't appear to be weave, hung to the middle of her back where Seger's hand was resting, by the way. She was clearly a high-fashion model, and I wondered what she was doing with Seger, a devout Christian missionary. Maybe it was his sister I thought at first, but when I saw the way she grinned at him and put her hand on his, I knew they weren't related.
It was none of my business anyway, but I couldn't even concentrate anymore. I couldn't stop staring either.
Marisol started staring too. “Now she's beautiful. I'll bet she can have any man she wants.”
“Nonsense. So can you, Marisol. It just has to be the right one, that's all. She doesn't even look like his type,” I said, trying to suck in my pudgy stomach.
“I don't know about all that. She looks like any man's type, if you ask me.”
I started fluffing out my hair, which had been matted down from the hood. “You know what I mean, Marisol.”
Seger opened his briefcase and took out what looked like a portfolio. He looked at it, and then at the young lady with obvious admiration. I squinted and tried to figure out what it was, but I couldn't see. My eyebrows remained raised the entire time.
“I know. I know.” Marisol looked away from them, and said very matter-of-factly,
“Maybe they're working together on a project or something.”
I snapped my fingers. “Yes, that would explain it; a project.”
“Yeah, maybe or maybe not.” Marisol hunched her shoulders.
I put my cup down and frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Seger did mention to me that he was looking for a wife,” Marisol said.
“I'm sure he did but—”
“But what?” Marisol put her hand on her hip. “You don't think he wants to get married?
We talked about it just the other day in the break room.”
“I do but surely not to someone as young as her.” I sucked my teeth. A sister had to always be concerned about her looks and about her age while brothers just relaxed and let things happen. All my life I'd been told to watch my weight, fix my hair, straighten up my clothes, and get it together so I could get a man. And for what? So I could be semi miserable the way I was now? That wasn't fair either. I never saw men worrying about their waistline, a bad hair day, or blemished skin.
“Hey, you never know what's going on in a brother's mind.” Marisol squinted her eyes.
“That's true, but this brother happens to be a good friend of mine,” I said, nodding.
“So what? He's a friend of mine too. That doesn't mean we know what he's thinking or planning every moment of the day.”
“I didn't say that.”
“Maybe Seger is looking for someone young, someone like her.” Marisol glanced over at them.
“I don't know, maybe. It's none of our business anyway.” Now I was really annoyed.
The entire time we were eating my mind was gone. Was Seger really interested in this woman romantically? And why was I so interested in what was going on at his table, anyway? I was utterly disgusted with myself at this point. Was I jealous that a woman had Seger's undivided attention, or was I just concerned for his welfare? I finally decided on the latter, and with that thought, I stopped staring. As we were leaving, we waved at Seger, and he politely waved back. The young woman never even looked our way. Now that was confidence.
Back at work I was annoyed for no apparent reason. A slight headache crept in as I settled down at my desk. Usually, I only worked four hours per day, and would've been gone already except that I promised to help Dr. Harding get some specific office matters in order.
Even though I no longer felt up to the challenge, I couldn't go back on my word. I made one call to Joshua to explain that I would be getting home an hour later and one to Mrs. Johnson who was keeping Lilah. Then I dove into the pile of extra work that Dr. Harding had for me, trying hard to keep my mind on my work and not on the conversation Marisol and I had earlier.
As I was about to finally leave for the day, Seger ran into me in the hallway. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Alex, I'm surprised you're still here.”
“Yeah, I'm a little off schedule today,” I said, rocking back and forth on my sore foot.
“Right, so am I. I had to meet with that young lady you saw me eating lunch with. She's from Paris, and I've been assigned to show her around the city.”
“Assigned?”
“Yes, she's a foreign exchange student and she's also a model friend of my sister's.”
“Oh, okay ...” I said, waiting for an explanation.
“Thanks to Dr. Harding, she'll be doing a commercial with Missionary. She's not just a pretty face, but she's a professional.”
“I'm sure she is, but I've really got to go.” I stepped away from Seger and waved. “Bye.”
The funny thing was, for some reason I felt relieved.
Chapter Sixteen
Joshua
 
It was Saturday morning. The sweet aroma of pancakes and beef sausage arrested my senses as I came out of the shower. By the time I threw on my jeans and a polo shirt, I heard Alex calling me.
“Breakfast is ready, husband.”
“Thanks, babe,” I said as I entered the newly decorated kitchen. Alex had gone out of her way to change the accessories. We had brand-new stainless steel pots and pans, a new lacquer table set with white chairs, and beautiful orange and white curtains. Even our toaster was orange. I didn't know how she came up with that idea, but it did brighten up the room, so it was cool. I smiled because my wife was brilliant, and she was all mine. Fortunately, she made all these purchases with our wedding gift money, and she did so before I laid out the budget.
Lilah came running out from her room, fully dressed in a purple sweat suit, and hopped into my lap. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Morning, sweetie,” I said, balancing her on my knee and giving her a peck on the cheek.
I stood up to put Lilah into her own seat, said grace, and we began to eat.
“Lilah and I are about to run out to do some shopping this morning,” Alex said. “Want to come?”
“No, thanks.” I stuffed a sausage into my mouth. “I think I'll run a few errands of my own.”
Alex gave me a sweet kiss, but I could tell she had a lot on her mind. Before long, she and Lilah were gone, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stop thinking about Yvonne and what she'd said about her friend who was willing to be a surrogate mother if we needed her to. Thanks to Dr. Henley, we had already discussed in vitro fertilization as an option, and I wondered if Alex's body was really up to the challenge. So I decided to set up a meeting with Yvonne at an obscure little Cantonese restaurant in the village. I assured myself that the information was just to be used as a last resort, kind of like insurance.
I arrived a few minutes early just so I could scope out the scene. Just like I remembered, it was dark and quiet. Everyone looked like they were minding their own business, which was the kind of environment I wanted. I hadn't been here since Alex and I first started dating, when I discovered that she didn't care for Cantonese food.
A few minutes later, Yvonne pulled up in Sister Winifred's station wagon. She didn't look like herself today. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore an African print head scarf on top of it. I'd never seen her look so laid-back, but that wasn't the point. I was anxious to get down to business—baby business.
I looked over my shoulder. “So what have you got for me?”
Yvonne slid a big manila envelope over to me. “This is her profile, name, address, and even the agency she goes through.”
I felt like some kind of spy. “Agency?”
“Oh, yes. I told you it's all very legit.”
I picked up the envelope. “I hope so.”
Yvonne rolled her gum around on her tongue. “You'll see.”
“I don't know, Yvonne. I'm just getting information. I didn't say I—”
She smiled. “Don't worry. I'm not judging you, honey. I'm just sayin'—”
“I'm just checking out everything before I get with Alex on it.” My restless fingers tapped on the table in front of me. I was trying not to look nervous, but I knew it was probably obvious.
Yvonne smirked. “You might have a fight on your hands knowing Sister Alex.”
Alex's possible reaction flashed in my mind. “Maybe.”
“Probably.”
I kept my eyes on her. “My wife is very strong willed.”
“Humph. You could say that.”
I began contemplating how I would tell Alex about this. “I just have to convince her that this is just something to consider.”
“Well, good luck with that. I'm just here to give you some options.” Yvonne grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Her hands were soft and smooth. “Consider it my good deed for the month or whatever.”
Since I knew meeting with her behind my wife's back was wrong, I tried to push that detail to the back of my mind. It was all for the greater good of having a child, our child, the one we both wanted and prayed for. Or at least that's the story I told myself to justify my actions.
Of course, when I arrived home, I had to avoid any eye contact with Alex because I was afraid she would see right through me.

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