Faithful (3 page)

She'd tried to avoid the conversation altogether, telling her boys it would be best if they didn't pressure him, wouldn't hurt to miss one Sunday. But at twelve, ten, and eight, they had their own perspective. They had been praying for him for years. This, they thought, would be the perfect way for God to answer. With their mom away for the weekend, their dad would feel obligated to take them to church.

Phyllis didn't have the heart to tell the boys it wasn't that easy. Hayes wouldn't feel obligated. When he made up his mind, he stuck to it, and on this his mind was firm.

She knew.

When Phyllis became a believer almost six years ago, she returned from the church service ecstatic, the good news spilling out of her. She came quickly through the door looking for Hayes, her adrenaline assuring her that everything had changed. She was different, the world was different, even the house was different.

Before she'd left that morning, she'd been scanning the Sunday real estate section in the
Post-Dispatch
, drooling over newer homes with open floor plans, spectacular kitchens, and master baths with enough space for two people to walk past each other. She told Hayes she was tired of their eighty-year-old house with all of its creaks and warts. She had acquiesced to moving to Clayton because they were new to the area and a couple of Hayes's coworkers had touted the school district. But older homes had never been her preference, and each year of the three they'd been there, she'd grown more annoyed with it.

Instead of updating the place, a carrot Hayes had dangled, their money had gone into fixing a myriad of things apparently timed to break down the minute they left closing. Her favorite was the treads on the main staircase, which were so worn, the stair repair person informed them, that some unfortunate soul would've soon stepped down and sailed clear to the basement. No matter how good the school district was, she was ready to move to a suburb farther west where she could enjoy a modernized lifestyle and little amenities like three-pronged outlets in every room of the house.

But it wasn't the same house when she returned from church. Oh, the kitchen was in the same spot, on the far side of the first floor, accessible through one doorway and hemmed in by four stifling walls. But now she saw the ampleness of the space and three large windows on those walls that allowed natural light to pour through. Outside she glimpsed big beautiful trees swaying with gorgeous clothes of spring. Why hadn't she noticed the fuchsia flowers in the bush beneath the window where she ate her breakfast every morning? She beheld their beauty, but only for a moment. She had to find Hayes.

Phyllis moved through the living room, passed under another archway, and found him in the family room watching football. She kissed him hello and stood with a grin, waiting anxiously for the next commercial.

“What?” His eyes moved between Phyllis and the flat panel on the wall.

“I can wait,” she said, despite her excitement. She knew Hayes had to focus on every second of every down, lest he miss a sack, strip, fumble, interception, or long bomb into the end zone. He even cared about the little things, little to Phyllis anyway, things like line formations and quarterback snaps.

He looked as if he could have played football himself at one time. At six foot three and thick, he filled an entire cushion on the sofa. He was glued to his favorite spot, the far left end, arm hanging over the side within easy reach of the brew on the end table. He wore a simple tank and nylon athletic shorts, his medium dark legs propped on a leather cushion.

“No, go ahead.” He glanced up at her. “You look . . .” He shrugged. “I don't know. Strange. What's up?”

Phyllis eased next to him on the sofa, her black skirt grazing his legs. “Hayes, I can't believe it. I grew up in church, but I guess I never really ‘got it.' You know, not in my heart.” She took a breath, still processing it all. “Today the message just shook me. I was in tears at the end and went up for the altar call. They took me to this counseling room, and Cyd went with me. She knows the pastor, and she got him to come in personally and talk to me. He told me how I could be born again.” Phyllis paused and sighed with a smile. “Hayes, I gave my life to Jesus.”

He lifted his brow. “You're kidding, right?”

Phyllis's smile disappeared. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Phyl.” He was almost chuckling, looking back now at the game. “You didn't believe all of that, did you?” He grabbed his beer.

“All of what?” Phyllis's heart dropped. Had she only imagined the wonder of the morning? Had she been carried away by the beautiful music and melodic voices at the end of the message? Was that why she walked down that aisle? Had she been somehow seduced into believing?

“Man, the ball was right there! They pay you all that money to
catch
the ball. Come on!” Hayes's legs hit the floor as he scooted to the edge of his seat.

Phyllis pushed his shoulder. “Did I believe all of what?”

“All that stuff about judgment and hell.” His eyes were on the next play. “I know he went there. Scared you, didn't he?”

Phyllis's eyes fell, wondering now if maybe she hadn't been seduced, but scared into believing. She mulled over the pastor's words.

He'd been so clear and kind. And Cyd had been sitting with her as he spoke, streaming tears right along with Phyllis. Cyd had been the one who invited her to church; they'd gotten acquainted through

Phyllis's walks around the neighborhood. The doubt vanished as she shook her head.

“He told me about hell, but I wasn't afraid, Hayes. He mainly spoke of the good news, not the bad. He focused on Christ. And yes, I did believe all of it.”

Hayes grunted.

Phyllis took a breath. “Hayes, Cyd said this man is nationally known and well respected. With a congregation of thousands, I'm sure he's busy. Yet he said he'd be willing to meet with you as well. He said I could call his assistant and—”

“Phyllis.” Hayes's tone was dry. “He can't tell me anything I haven't already heard. I grew up in church just like you, and unlike you, apparently, I ‘got it.' I knew exactly what they were saying. I just didn't buy it. That pastor may be willing to meet, but I'm not. Not for that.” He took a swig and hunched forward to catch the next play, shaking his head. “Whatever.”

Tears sprang up and danced around Phyllis's lower lashes. She followed Hayes's eyes to the television to gather herself. This was the most meaningful day of her life, one she couldn't wait to share with her husband. She wanted him to rejoice with her. More than that, she wanted him to experience the same joy. She didn't think he would fall on his knees and give his life to Jesus the moment he heard, but she didn't think he would react this way either.
Whatever?

At the next commercial, Phyllis doubled up her nerve. “Okay, Hayes, forget the meeting. I just want you to see this church. There's such a sweet spirit there, and this man really teaches. Why don't you go with me next Sunday and see what you think?”

She groaned inside when the crowd roared before he could respond. She'd never seen a commercial break zip by that fast.

“Phyllis, I told you when you asked two days ago, last night, and this morning that I wasn't going,” he said, his eyes at half-attention. “And I'm not changing my mind just because you had some kind of religious experience.” He tipped the bottle to his mouth and drained it. “In fact, let me make this real plain. I don't want to hear about that church or God. Period.” He shrugged as if they had just disagreed on whether to take up horticulture. “It's just something we're not going to share.”

Phyllis never talked to the boys about where Hayes stood. But as they rose for church every Sunday morning and left without him, they began to ask questions. Phyllis told them simply to pray that their father would join them one day, and that's apparently what they'd been doing. She was surprised when they announced with glee that this weekend could be the answer.

She felt guilty too. The boys were so full of hope, and it was clear hers had dwindled. She was the one who dealt with the tension firsthand, having to watch what she said and how she said it, feeling irrepressible joy at growing closer to God yet forced to keep it contained.

It was especially hard during her surprise pregnancy with their fourth child, Ella. Phyllis was awed that God was shaping a life in her very own womb. He'd done it three times before, but she'd never recognized it as such, so to her, this may as well have been her first. She would rub her tummy, muttering, “Thank You, God.” She would serenade the little one with praise songs while washing dishes or making the bed, always softly if Hayes was home, never if he was in the room. Though they were both excited about the baby, she had to guard her joy, express it with the right words. She prayed harder than ever for a change in Hayes, but it didn't come. Lately she'd been wondering if it ever would. It was hard to keep the faith when Hayes hadn't moved an inch in six years.

She sighed. Maybe the boys were right, and this would be God's way of answering. Maybe, just maybe, Hayes's heart had softened a little. Maybe it was ripe for this very request. Phyllis told her sons that she'd ask on Friday morning, and she'd implored Cyd and Dana to pray.

Lord, let this be the right time
.

Phyllis felt Hayes's breath on her neck as he whispered, “You'd better get in the shower, baby. You don't want to be late for your flight.”

Despite his words, Hayes continued working his fingers across her neck, causing Phyllis to hug her pillow tighter and insert herself back in the moment. “This is too relaxing,” she mumbled. “I don't want to get up.”

“Oh, in that case . . .” Hayes pulled the burgundy and gold comforter over their heads.

Phyllis poked her head out, chuckling. Popping up on an elbow, she looked at him. “Are you sure you're going to be able to handle the kids by yourself?”

Hayes pecked her on the lips. “For the twentieth time, yes.”

“But, Hayes, I don't think you've ever taken care of all four of them for longer than a few hours. It's a lot of work. And now that Ella's eighteen months, she's into everything. You really have to watch her because—”

He put a finger to her lips. “I've got it under control.”

Phyllis smiled at him. “I really appreciate your taking the day off so I can leave early this morning.”

“Had to,” he said, pushing a curl out of her face. “I thought you would die if you missed any part of the festivities.”

Phyllis smiled. She was headed to a reunion. She couldn't believe it, but it had been twenty years since she had pledged Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority with fourteen line sisters as an undergraduate at the University of Maryland, College Park. The women planned the reunion celebration to coincide with Maryland's homecoming weekend to encourage a bigger turnout. As for arriving early on Friday, Phyllis had a confession.

“Well,” she said slowly, “there's actually nothing on the official agenda until this evening, but, you know, we wanted to get together at Stacy's house beforehand to—”

“Gossip.”

Phyllis lifted her head, swiped her pillow out from under, and hit him with it. “To catch up on each other's lives.”

“Mm-hmm.” Hayes sat up to guard himself against a second hit. “A bunch of women spending the weekend together equals gossip. And you're going to miss some of it if you don't get moving.”

Phyllis turned to look at the clock. “Ooh, you're right,” she said, scooting out of bed, “but only the part about needing to get moving.” At the doorway to the bathroom, she paused. “I forgot to tell you, the boys want burgers on the grill tonight. I bought the meat yesterday.”

“Okay.”

“And I rented the movies you all wanted. And let's see . . . oh, Ella's church clothes are in her closet, facing outward. The boys can dress themselves.” She avoided his gaze. “Let me see if there's anything else . . .”

Hayes leaned casually on an elbow. “We're not going to church, Phyl.”

Phyllis looked at him. “But we go every week, Hayes. And the boys love their Sunday school classes and kids' church. They don't want to miss it.”

“It won't kill them to miss one Sunday. It's no big deal. I'll think of something fun for us to do instead.”

“But, Hayes . . . I was thinking it would be good for you too.

You know, to go.”

“I'm not going, Phyllis.”

“But, Hayes—”

“Phyllis, don't start. We've had a great morning. Don't ruin it.”

Phyllis turned into the bathroom and closed the door, tears welling. Hayes was as resolute as ever. Couldn't even bend for the sake of the kids.

Lord, I'm tired of trying to keep the faith
.

“S
WEETHEART, YOU'RE GOING
to miss your plane.”

Phyllis heard Hayes's voice booming up the stairs as she stooped beside her overstuffed luggage, fighting to pull the zipper closed.

“The security lines are crazy this time of morning.”

She walked to the dresser, her heart heavy still. She'd taken extra time in the shower, trying to dredge up some joy, but it hadn't worked. She didn't even feel like speaking to Hayes.

Her husband breezed into the room in shorts and a T-shirt, having hopped into the hall shower . . . and let out a low whistle. “Wow! Look at you.”

“Trying to say I don't normally look like this?” Phyllis fished through her jewelry box and lifted thin hoops from the mix as her emotions played tug-of-war in her heart. She wanted to lighten up, leave with a right spirit, but sadness had the upper hand.

Hayes wrapped his arms around her waist. “You're always beautiful, don't get me wrong. But no, you don't always look like
this
.”

He was right, of course. Her usual attire this time of morning— and often all day—was sweatpants, a T-shirt, and slippers. Her hair would be pulled back and her face free of makeup, often until Sunday. Now she stood a couple of inches taller in skinny-heeled black boots, with comfortable but stylish jean gauchos and a black shawl-neck sweater. Her hair, past her shoulders, had loose curls from the wet set she'd given it the night before, and her makeup, unlike Sundays, even included mascara and eyeliner. She'd be seeing people she hadn't seen in years, some not since she graduated. A decent look was definitely in order.