The Sunday Only Christian (13 page)

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Authors: E. N. Joy

BOOK: The Sunday Only Christian
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“Are you trying to say that I treat my son the way you treated me?” Deborah had turned so quickly to confront her mother, Mrs. Lewis didn't know if her entire body had spun around, or just her head itself. “Are you trying to say I run my house the way you ran yours?” Deborah shooed the air. “Because that's just outright madness.” Deborah continued to mumble under her breath as she opened and slammed cabinets and drawers, retrieving sugar and spoons. She looked like a raging dragon. All she needed was smoke fuming out of her nostrils.
“Is this what I looked like all those years ago?” Mrs. Lewis asked her daughter. “Is this what you had to go through? Because if it was, I apologize again. I apologize from the bottom of my heart. I'm an old woman and just sitting in this room being subjected to this type of behavior is breaking me down.” Mrs. Lewis stood as if all the energy had been zapped out of her body. She balanced herself on the table with both hands.
Deborah ignored her mother and just continued slamming cupboards and drawers.
All Mrs. Lewis could do was wipe the tears streaming from her eyes and say, “May God break this curse. In Jesus' name.” She looked around for her purse and remembered that it was in the living room. She then headed that way to retrieve it.
“Oh, so what about the tea?”
“Sorry to have put you through all the trouble. Just ain't in the mood for it anymore.” Mrs. Lewis headed into the living room. She could still hear her daughter mumbling and rambling on, dishes clanking and crashing into the sink. “I know I ain't a religious, church-going woman,” she said, grabbing her purse, “but I know this job is too big for me.” She looked up before exiting her daughter's house and said, “But ain't nothing too big for God.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“It wasn't too long ago that if you had invited me over to your house for dinner, I would have thought it was to poison me.” Helen let the forkful of linguini rest just right at her mouth. “You ain't trying to poison me, are you?” She laughed. Deborah laughed too. Even Deborah's son, who was sitting in his high chair, laughed, just to be mimicking the adults.
“Girl, no,” Deborah replied. “You done watched too many episodes of
Snapped.
” They laughed some more. “I can't say I blame you too much for thinking it though. Heck, had the tables been turned, I probably would have thought the same thing about you. Just to eliminate any concerns, I was just going to invite you out to dinner, but my mom usually keeps my son for me and she and I . . . well . . . Let's just say I didn't have a sitter.”
“Oh, I feel you. And I know how it is when mothers try to take their kids out to a restaurant. My sister, Lynn, can never even enjoy the meal she paid for for tending to the kids. Dining out is playtime for those little rug rats.” Helen finally ate her bite of food, chewed, and then added, “But I love my niece and nephew to death. I love all kids to death.”
Taking a bite of her own food, Deborah chewed and chewed on the words Helen had just said. “I hope you don't mind me asking . . . I mean, I hope I'm not bringing up bad memories, but if you love kids so much, then why did you . . .” Deborah's words trailed off. She almost wished she hadn't started her line of questioning, but decided to finish anyway. “Why did you get that abortion? Why didn't you just have the baby?”
Helen gently placed her fork down on her plate, rested her back against the chair, and thought for a minute.
“I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I should have never brought it up.” Deborah shoveled a couple bites of food into her mouth.
“No, it's fine. There are not many people I've talked to about this, or people who I even can talk to about this.” Helen picked up a napkin, wiped her mouth, then set it back down. “The short version, he used to beat me. The guy who I was pregnant by used to beat me. Then after he'd beat me he'd make up with me by having sex with me. It was usually by force. I ended up pregnant. As much as I loved kids, I knew if I had that baby, I would be making a horrible mistake. Plus, I thought there was a chance that since it was his seed growing inside me, that it might turn out to be a monster too. I couldn't let that happen. And as you know, I didn't let that happen.” Helen took a bite of garlic toast. “He never knew about the abortion. I told him I miscarried. It tore him up, thinking his unborn child had died. So for the next couple of years he tried to get me pregnant. Whenever my period came, he'd beat me for not being pregnant. So, I prepared myself to expect a beating at least once a month, because I knew I'd never get pregnant.” Helen took a sip of her ice-cold lemonade, then casually said, “Because I got on birth control after the abortion. I couldn't take a chance on ever getting pregnant again by him. Thing is, he had no idea I was even on the Pill. And once I realized he was on this mission to get me pregnant again, I made sure he never found out.”
Helen let out a nervous chuckle. “I even thought about having my tubes tied it was so bad.”
“Helen, that's awful.” Deborah cringed. “But what if the next man you dated wanted children? Did you think about that? Is that what made you have a change of heart?”
“Nah, that wasn't it. He told me that he couldn't live without me. He'd kill himself if I ever left him, but not before killing me.” Helen mocked him: “‘If I can't have you, nobody can have you.' And I believed him. I believed I would spend the rest of my miserable existence with him.”
“So, are you with him now?”
“No. He ended up beating up this dude in a wheelchair and getting sentenced to a year and a half in jail. That gave me eighteen months to pack me and my son up and move away.”
“Your son? But I thought you got an abortion.” Deborah was confused.
“Yeah, that was my second pregnancy with him. We'd already had one together.” She smiled when she mentioned her son. “I don't regret having my Baby D though. He was far from a monster, but so had his daddy been when I got pregnant with him. His father had changed over the years though. Like I said, he'd turned into a monster. I couldn't risk giving birth to a monster. I'd gotten lucky the first time, but who was to say I'd be so lucky the next?”
“You . . . you have a son?” Deborah repeated more so to herself, then said to Helen, “ But I've never seen him.”
“That's because my mom ended up raising him. My head was so messed up dealing with my ex and then the ex after him. I was being hurt, so I wanted to hurt people, and unfortunately, the only person around to take out all my pent-up aggression on was my son. So, my mom stepped in. He's grown now. Doing very well. In college, working, got his own place with a roommate. He's visited the church once or twice. If I can talk him into a third, I'll be sure to make introductions.” Helen smiled, then took a sip of her drink.
Deborah just sat back in her chair, dumbfounded. She would have never known Helen had such a story. But what really got to her was that Helen was being so forthcoming with her story.
“Helen, thank you for being so transparent,” Deborah said.
“Oh, child, please. You know the saying, if I don't tell it, the devil will. It's all part of the testimony, sista. All part of the testimony. Don't know who it's for, but I know it's going to help somebody out some day.”
“I'm sure it will,” Deborah agreed—as long as that somebody wasn't her. Although she had no intention of judging Helen based on her testimony, she knew that she'd never get so far gone that her mother, of all people, would have to step in and help her with her son. And that little intervention mess her mother had tried to pull the other day, Deborah would charge it to her head and not her heart. Her mother was jumping to conclusions. She feared that all her ways were going to start rubbing off on Deborah. But as far as Deborah was concerned, she wasn't nearly as bad as her mother had been, and never would be. And again, not to judge Helen, but she wasn't as bad as her either. So all was good in her book. But had she fast-forwarded a page or two, she would have realized that, no, she wasn't as bad as her mother or Helen; she was worse.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Ganny Ban Banny missed her baby,” Mrs. Lewis said as she walked into Deborah's house and scooped up her grandson. She then proceeded to cover him with one kiss after the next, and he loved it, too. Those three days without Mrs. Lewis seeing her grandson had taken their toll on her.
“Thanks for coming by, Mom,” Deborah said, closing the door. “He's been asking about you. That boy knows he loves and missed his Ganny Ban Banny.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mrs. Lewis asked. “Well, what about his mother? Does she still love me and did she miss me too?” Mrs. Lewis began playfully batting her eyes while making a puppy-dog face.
Deborah rolled her eyes up in her head and tried not to let her girlish smile slip out, but it did. “Yes, Momsy. I still love you and I missed you too.” Deborah walked over to her mother, hugged her, and then gave her a kiss on the cheek. She didn't like fighting with her mother. And she was urged to make up with her when a scripture, Ephesians 4:26, came to her mind and wouldn't leave:
Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath.
Well, Deborah had let the sun go down three times before making amends with her mother. She couldn't allow a fourth. “So can we call it a truce?” Deborah waited for her mother to respond.
Mrs. Lewis placed her arms around her daughter. “Truce, baby girl.” She kissed her on her cheek. “You know I was only trying to help you, don't you? I didn't mean to offend you with anything I said the other day. I just don't want to see you angry and in pain like I was.”
“I know, Mom. I know. And I'm sorry that I keep bringing up the past. You were as good a mother as you knew how to be. You did the best that you could.” Deborah shrugged.
“Yeah, I did the best that I could. And I know a lot of mothers who use that as an excuse for the way they raised their kids. But I believe in my heart that there is a big difference between doing the best that you can and doing all that you can. I didn't do all that I could to be better, Deborah. But see, you have an advantage over me. You have something that I didn't.”
“What's that?” Deborah asked.
“You have God.” Mrs. Lewis smiled. “You know I never was into church. Never had time for it. Can't say I've ever really had a personal relationship with God. But I'm glad that you do. And if your God is what makes you better than me, than to Him be the glory.”
“If you think that much about God, then why don't you come visit my church?” Deborah saw a window of opportunity for witnessing and decided to climb right through it.
“Oh, I'm too old to be starting up a new relationship with anybody,” Mrs. Lewis countered. “But you keep doing what you doing and you'll be okay.” She looked down at her grandson. “Whenever you think of snappin' off, especially around him, just think about how it used to make you feel when I did it to you. Don't ever want that feeling for your son. I didn't want that for you. When I gave birth to you and held you in my arms for the first time, I would have tried to kill anybody who dared try to hurt you. Then when it came down to it, I was the one who ended up hurting you.” Mrs. Lewis was on the verge of getting emotional.
“Come on, Ma. Cut it out.” Deborah put her arm around her mother and rested her head against her.
“I'm sorry—I'm just saying. I want you to be better and do better than me. You got that?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Deborah stood straight and saluted her mother's orders.
“Don't get fresh now.” Mrs. Lewis playfully swatted Deborah's behind.
“Ouch!” Deborah faked an injury.
“Yeah, like that little swat hurt that ba-dunk-a-dunk of yours.”
“Ma! No, you didn't.” A dropped jaw and smile covered Deborah's face.
“Yes, I did. What? I'm telling the truth. You got a big ol' butt. Especially since after having that baby. But don't be ashamed about it. Runs in the family.” Mrs. Lewis leaned in and said to her daughter, “Now that I don't mind saying you got from me.”
Both women burst out laughing. Deborah's son followed suit.
“You think that's funny?” Deborah said, squeezing his cheeks. “You think Mommy having a big ol' butt is funny?”
“He does, and Granny is about to see to it that he has a big tummy. If you don't mind, I'd like to run and get him some ice cream right quick. Maybe stop off at the park for a spell, too.”
“I don't mind at all. That will give me an opportunity to work on my book.”
“Oh, my. You finally dusted off that book you started all those years ago and got to working in it again.” Mrs. Lewis was both hopeful and excited.
“Oh, no. I didn't mean my personal book. I meant a book I'm editing for someone. I haven't thought twice about that book I wrote since I last put it down.”
“Well, maybe you just ought to.” A little disappointed, Mrs. Lewis looked around until she spotted her grandson's diaper bag that Deborah always had packed and ready just in case. “I mean, you working on books that end up on
New York Times,
you might as well put that same effort into your own book. You get a chance to go on them fancy, long book tours like some of them other big-name authors do. You deserve it. You've been in this book business a mighty long time. It's long overdue you see the other side of it.” She picked up the diaper bag and headed to the front door.
Deborah bounced her shoulders up and down modestly and said, “Yeah, well, I don't know. I'll have to see.”
“Well, you know I'm here to support you no matter what. I'd love keeping my grandbaby while you go see the world on those book signings.”
“Trust me, Mom, those book signings are overrated. It's not all that, especially once you run out of family, friends, and cousins to come buy a book.” Deborah laughed.
“If you say so. But you're young. A change of scenery might do you some good.” Mrs. Lewis opened the door. “Speaking of a change of scenery.” A huge smile covered her face and she looked back at Deborah. “I'm sure you'll like this view.” Mrs. Lewis stepped to the side, revealing an unexpected caller standing outside the door.
Deborah's eyes bucked. “Lynox . . .”

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