Silver Lining (4 page)
Authors: Wanda B. Campbell
Kevin braced himself for what was coming next by taking a big gulp of coffee. Marlissa chuckled. “We were so drunk, we fell asleep on the floor in the doorway. The next morning after we sobered up, got a good look at each other, and learned we shared the same last name, we realized sleeping with each other was something neither of us really wanted to do. Turns out, we have a lot in common. From that day on we've been friends. We became each other's keeper. Actually, he's more like the big brother I never had. He made sure I didn't get into too much trouble and I did likewise for him.”
“I still don't understand how a drunk, like yourself, led you to salvation.”
Marlissa didn't dodge the dart he'd thrown, nor did she fire back. “One night, we were both drunk and broke. I followed Leon to the church his mother attends so he could con her out of some money. We made up this story about me being homeless with two kids and needing money for a hotel room. Actually, that was true, minus the two kids, of course. I was going to use the money for alcohol.”
Kevin pursed his lips, but didn't comment.
“We sat in the back of the church, sloppy drunk. So drunk that I didn't know I was in a church. Watching all those people yell and dance around the room, I thought I was at a new club. Leon was probably too wasted to remember that Friday was Revival Night at Restoration Ministries.” Marlissa smirked. “Anyway, as I sat there, I was drawn into the preacher's words. He was speaking about the love of God. It wasn't that I hadn't heard those same words before, but for the first time I felt as though God was talking directly to me. Before I knew it, I was on my knees at the altar, crying and begging the Lord to love me.” After wiping the happy tears that slid down her cheek, she added, “It wasn't until the saints finished praying over me did I notice Leon at the other end of the altar, begging for forgiveness. We joined church that night and haven't had a drink since. That was a year ago.”
“And you haven't had a drink since?” Kevin repeated.
“No,” Marlissa answered, shaking her head from side to side. “God really delivered me that night. Now, I'd be lying if I said I haven't wanted a drink. Once I went as far as to purchase liquor, but I couldn't drink it. I poured a good bottle of Hennessy down the sink. I read the Bible often, pray a lot, and have people praying for me. It's not easy, but I'm working hard to maintain my deliverance.”
Kevin swallowed hard. “Although I'm happy you've found your peace, I can't celebrate with you. I always thought that if I loved you enough, I'd be the one to lead you to the Lord. Not some drunk.”
Marlissa pressed forward. “Brother Atkins hired me as a secretary at his insurance office, but the salary isn't enough to cover the rent and food. In the beginning, Leon's job at the gas station didn't cover his rent either, and the occupancy regulations at his mother's senior facility prevented him from moving in with her, so we became roommates.” Marlissa took a long overdue sip of tea. “Now that he's working on renewing his contractor's license, he'll be starting his business up again and hopefully reuniting with Starla and his two children soon. That's why I'm working two jobs, trying to save enough money to afford a nice one bedroom after he moves out.”
“Tyson didn't tell me you have two jobs,” Kevin interjected.
“I work retail four nights a week at Macy's Bayfair.”
Kevin smirked and looked out onto the street. As his wife, Marlissa hadn't needed to work, but she forfeited that luxury the day she left him.
“Enough about me, how are you doing, Kevin? You look great.” Marlissa didn't want the spotlight any more. Although proud of her progress, it was still hard reliving the past.
Kevin shot her a look she interpreted as, “How do you think I'm doing?”
“I'm busy as usual, still performing surgery three days a week. I also have clinic Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons.”
Marlissa glanced at his hands and longed to feel the gentleness of his touch. “How's Pastor Jennings?”
Kevin nearly frowned. “Mother is Mother. She still has members, so she's happy.”
“Are you happy?” It just slipped out.
Kevin sat up straight. “I'm working on it. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” He paused. “Thank you for not contesting the divorce. This thing doesn't need to get any uglier than it already is.”
“Kevin, I meant everything I said. I am sorry.”
He didn't acknowledge her apology then and wasn't going to now. “I'm happy you've turned your life around,” he said, suddenly standing. “This is a nice neighborhood. You should be safe walking back home. See you around.” Then, just as unexpectedly as he appeared, Kevin was gone.
Chapter 4
F
ather, I thank you so much for giving me this opportunity for redemption.
ather, I thank you so much for giving me this opportunity for redemption.
Leon repeated the simple prayer constantly in his head, grateful that God would give him the chance to repair the home he had destroyed. After five years of marriage and receiving the gift of two precious children, Leon had allowed the pain and guilt of his younger brother's murder to swallow and then drown him in the pit of despair. Leon remembered the day like it was yesterday.
On the morning of Thursday, July 15, 2004, Leon didn't think his world could get any better than it was. He had finally acquired an ample staff of reliable and qualified workers, which was good because he had more than enough work for his construction business. Star Construction, named after his wife, Starla, was the most sought-after name in the flooring industry from Oakland to Fremont for both residential as well as commercial. Starla had given birth to their second son six months prior and Leon was in the process of finding land to one day build Starla a brand new house on. The three-bedroom home they owned was nice, but Leon felt Starla deserved something better. “You're my star, the light that lights my path,” is what he constantly told her. It didn't matter the quantity or quality of compliments Leon received for his workmanship from his customers; coming home to Starla and his babies was the highlight of his day. As fulfilling as his natural life was, his spiritual life lacked just as much.
Leon had grown up in the church, his late father being a deacon and his mother an evangelist. Leon and his three siblings had Jesus preached to them for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks in between. That was the problem. As a child Leon heard so much preaching he heard it in his sleep. In his teenage years, he tried to fake being saved around his family and imitate a thug at school, but neither act was convincing. Leon just gave up and did what he wanted to do.
Although he no longer attended church, Leon continued to pray from time to time and sent his tithes to Restoration Ministries on a regular basis through his mother. Believing that children needed a strong religious foundation, Leon sent Starla and the children to the neighborhood church. Starla's receiving salvation still wasn't incentive enough for him to attend.
“I went to church three nights a week, five if you count choir rehearsal and miracle healing service, plus twice on Sunday. I've had enough church to take me to heaven twice,” was Leon's response whenever Starla or his mother would invite him to service. Eventually, Starla and his mother stopped talking and started praying for him.
That particular afternoon, Leon's brother, David, came by his jobsite asking for money. David, five years younger, was a heroin addict living on the streets of Oakland. David didn't own a car or cell phone, but he always knew how to find Leon. Normally, Leon would give him money, mainly to keep him from stealing it from their mother. But on that day, Leon had had enough of David. Three days prior, David had found him way out in Union City and nagged Leon out of $100; now he was back for more.
“Man, I told you the other day, I'm not giving you anymore money,” Leon yelled at his brother. “I have a family to support.”
“Y . . . You look like you're doing all right to me,” David stuttered, looking around and scratching himself at the same time. “W . . . What about me? I . . . I ain't family no mo'?”
“Baby bro, I'm not hearing that today. Go somewhere else with that nonsense.”
“Lee-man, you know if you don't give it to me, I'm gon'steal it from somebody.”
Leon shook his head at his brother. He knew David was telling the truth, but he still didn't give into his manipulation. “Bro, do what you have to do, because I'm not giving you a dime.”
The two brothers stood there, arguing back and forth for several minutes, before Leon walked away. David wouldn't give up; he tackled Leon from behind and tried to take his wallet. Leon reminded David that he was still his big brother by beating David until he begged him to stop. Then Leon did the brotherly thing and helped him to his feet, and told him to take his foolishness someplace else. This time David did what he was told and left.
That was the last time Leon saw David alive. Three hours later, sitting at his kitchen table, he received a call from his mother informing him that David had been shot to death by the gas station attendant he had attempted to rob.
From that moment on, Leon blamed himself for his brother's death, for not giving David the money he'd begged him for. Everyone tried to convince him that David made the wrong choice to hold up a gas station and threaten to kill the attendant with a plastic gun. And that, long before that, David, a magna cum laude college graduate, had choosen to give his life away to heroin. Leon didn't receive any of that. He couldn't when he was constantly tormented with nightmares of David telling him it was his fault. Trying to escape the voices, Leon made the choice to drown his sorrows with alcohol.
On the spiral journey downward, Leon had lost everything : his business, his house, and his family. The one silver lining behind the dark clouds that ruled his life for three years was that, in the end, he accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior. Today, Leon didn't mind going to church so much. He even went to church at home by watching as many religious programs as possible.
Today was a new day and a new genesis for him. After her visit three nights ago, Starla agreed to allow him an unsupervised afternoon with the boys. She still wasn't ready to make any decisions about dissolving or restoring their marriage, but Starla consented to a date once in a while. Leon eagerly received every token Starla offered. The one thing he was certain of, aside from the love of God, was the love in Starla's heart for him. If the love had dissipated, Starla would have divorced him when he left her and the boys, bottle in hand, causing her to lose their home and move in temporarily with her mother. But she didn't; she cried and yelled, even hit him, but not once did Starla stop referring to him as her husband. She may have added the adjectives low-down, trifling, or stupid first, but always ended with the noun husband. Starla's wounds ran deep, but so did her love.
Leon opened the refrigerator. “Thanks, brat,” he whispered. Marlissa had packed a picnic basket for him and the boys to take to the zoo before she'd left for work. Leon grabbed the basket and headed out the door.
“Are you sure that's a good idea?”
Starla switched the phone to her right ear and pondered Lewis's question. Lewis Mason was a deacon at her church who'd befriended her and the boys.
“Leon is doing better,” Starla answered. “Besides, he has a right to see his children.”
Stiff silence filled the line until Lewis cleared his throat. “Montel hasn't seen his father in over two years and Jaylen doesn't know him at all. The boys were only three and one when Leon left. They don't know him; it's like you're sending them off with a stranger.”
Starla sighed. “For that reason alone, Leon needs to spend time with the boys. They need to know their father.”
Lewis played the trump card. “Did you pray about this?”
“Of course I did. I even went to his apartment and checked it out.”
“Did you also check out his girlfriend?” A slight chuckle escaped. “What's she like?”
“Her name is Marlissa, and she's not his girlfriend,” Starla reminded him. “I also met her husband. They're actually a cute couple. I've been praying for things to work out for them.”
“Are you still praying for your marriage to work out?”
Starla knew that Lewis had intended to be sarcastic, but she didn't care. “Lewis, I'm praying for the Lord's will to be done.”
“Amen,” Lewis whispered, then added, “I have to stop at the station I'm considering buying. I'll call you later and see how the boys are doing.”
After hanging up, Starla restyled her braids and refreshed her lip gloss. Inside her bedroom, she dabbed on her favorite scented oil and found the perfect mules to match her capri pants. Normally, the ensemble was idiotic for this time of year, but due to the unusually dry late February weather, it worked. Before answering the doorbell, Starla unbuttoned the top button on her denim shirt. After all, it was her stupid, but saved, husband at the door.
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