My Wife My Baby...And Him Read online

Page 7


  “Something is wrong with you. You sound stupid, real stupid. I don’t know anything about a bracelet. You haven’t given me a piece of jewelry since the time you gave me that necklace for my birthday two years ago.”

  “So you actually want to play me that close? The man is up in my house, wearing a bracelet that I saw YOU buy, and you want to tell me it’s nothing going on between the two of you? Here I am thinking you bought me that bracelet for my birthday, and some other dude comes up in here sporting it!”

  “You know what, Stiles? I’m not even going to entertain your mess tonight. You are way out of line. For your information, the only bracelet that you could possibly know that I bought was the one for my father. I don’t know what in the hell else you’re talking about. And why are you looking at what the next man is wearing anyway?”

  “It was practically dangling in my face, Detria. I saw you that day in Zales. I even asked the sales clerk about the bracelet. So you’re telling me you spent seven hundred dollars on your father? Why?”

  “So now you’re following me?” she was so angry, she felt like throwing something at him.

  “I wasn’t following you. I happened to be in the mall buying you that purse while you’re buying for the next dude!”

  “Look, my mother asked me to go and pick up the bracelet. In case you forgot, their fortieth wedding anniversary is coming up, and she wanted to get him something extra special. She saw it in the paper on sale and asked me if I would get it. Now don’t you sound like a fool?”

  He gave her a suspicious sideways squint, but said nothing else.

  “You wanna call her? Huh?“ She reached for the house phone on the bedside table. “Here. Call her. Go on; make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

  “Get that phone outta my face! Calling over there is not going to prove a thing. I hate to tell you this, but your momma’s mouth ain’t no prayer book.” Is she telling the truth? Did she really get the bracelet for Momma Mackey to give to Poppa Mackey? He didn’t know what to think.

  “So now you wanna talk about my momma? Look, I tell you what. Since you have a problem with my quote unquote platonic friendship with Skip, I suggest you say something to him. But just like you have women flocking to talk to you, well for your information, Skip has talked to me about his problems a time or two. I listen because he wants someone to confide in.”

  “I’m his pastor and his friend. He can confide in me.”

  “Man, please, be for real. You know good and well that there are some things that a man needs to hear from a woman’s perspective, from a Christian woman’s perspective at that, but anyway, you tell him that then. But don’t be up in here trying to sweat me over nothing.”

  “Um hum,” Stiles said and turned over.

  “Oh, so that’s how this goes, huh?”

  “You made your point. I’m through with it.”

  “You know what, Stiles? Good, you be through with it. But let me say this and then I’m through with it. Don’t come up in my face trying to start some mess. I don’t know what’s up with you, but it’s all good. Have it your way, just leave me alone. All I wanted to do was come home, chill, and enjoy my new home, but you had to ruin everything!”

  “Where are you going?” He watched her put on her robe and step into her slippers.

  “I refuse to deal with anymore of your crap.” She stormed out of the room and with all her force, slammed the door behind her.

  Dang, I left my cell phone in there. But I don’t wanna go back. She threw up a hand and went into one of the bedrooms down the hall from Audrey’s room. Whew. That was a close call.

  Chapter 10

  “Starting all over again is not that bad. For when you restart, you get another chance to make things right.” Unknown

  Hezekiah had hopes that their sons would soon come to Memphis. He wished Fancy’s parents would have considered moving too, but they weren’t in a hurry to pick up their lives and start over in a new city and state, so Hezekiah and Fancy took the giant leap of faith and landed on their feet.

  Soon after the couple arrived, they were living in their own apartment and working twelve hours, six days a week. Fancy worked the front counter at a pastry shop while Hezekiah helped manage the store. Neither he nor Fancy minded working hard. They were used to it, having spent years behind bars.

  The neighborhood where they lived was the same neighborhood where Holy Rock was located. They started visiting the church, enjoyed Stiles’ way of preaching and teaching the Word, and soon they joined. Almost immediately, Hezekiah became actively involved in several ministries.

  Stiles noticed Hezekiah’s involvement soon after the couple joined Holy Rock. He had been quite impressed with Hezekiah’s knowledge of the Bible, his way of expression, and his commitment to serving God. Whenever Stiles saw him, he knew that Fancy was not going to be far behind.

  “Honey, do you like the ivory or the topaz color for the accent pillows?”

  Hezekiah looked up from the television and smiled. “Ivory.”

  “Okay, topaz it is,” Fancy said and laughed. “Do you honestly think I’d take your decorating advice?”

  Hezekiah joined her laughter and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing beats a try,” he responded and then resumed watching the television show.

  “Baby, I want to go to Chicago. I need to see the boys. I miss them.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” Hezekiah got up and walked over to his wife. Positioning his body behind hers, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the side of her neck. “Don’t you start worrying again. Remember, Khalil is in God’s hands. He’s where he needs to be for now. It’s the only place where he can get help while serving time for his crime. If we made it through, I know he can.” He kissed her again.

  Fancy tilted her head upward to face her husband. “I know. It just gets hard sometimes, that’s all.” Slowly, she turned all the way around and faced him without moving out of his arms. “You know sometimes I wonder if God is punishing us for the stuff we did. We stole from Him, not just from some guy off the corner or some big time dope dealer. Baby, we stole from God, from the church.”

  “Don’t do this again, Fancy.”

  With looming doe-shaped eyes, she slowly batted them at Hezekiah like she was seriously trying to fight back the flood of tears that desperately wanted to be released.

  “God doesn’t operate like that. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but you reap what you sow, and you know that,” she emphasized.

  “So you’re saying that Khalil is locked up because of us? And are you saying Xavier doesn’t want to come to Memphis because he knows that we’re concealing the truth about our past?” Hezekiah looked down at his wife and stroked several strands of hair away from her face.

  “I don’t know what to think, and I don’t know what they think. What I do know is that I need to see them.”

  “Okay, tell you what. I’ll start searching for a flight to Chicago leaving later in the week. How’s that? Would that make you feel better?”

  “She stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a big kiss.

  “Yes! Thanks, honey. I’ll go up there, stay a few days, and come on back. Seeing them, I know I’ll feel much better. When I get back I can see about me and First Lady Graham getting together to talk about the marriage ministry. She told me she wanted to listen to my ideas about what we can do to revitalize it. You know Holy Rock is an up and coming church. Haven’t you noticed all the young, married couples and families we have?”

  “Yes, you have a point. I think a marriage ministry is a good idea.”

  “You know, Honey, in spite of Detria’s diva-like ways, I sort of like her.” Although close in age, Fancy felt ions apart from Detria. Detria reminded her of a spoiled, high society rich girl who wanted everything to go her way and wanted to have her hand in everything that went on.

  “You sorta like her? Is that a good thing?”

  “Yeah, but there’s
something about her and Pastor Graham’s relationship that seems a little off balance.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m telling you, it’s something that’s not right. And have you noticed that most Wednesdays she’s not even in Bible Study? She spends a lot of time closed up in that office of hers.”

  Hezekiah released his wife and walked over to the sectional and sat down. “Do I detect a little jealousy?” he asked jokingly.

  “You know me better than that. And another thing.”

  “What is it?” asked Hezekiah.

  “She and Deacon Madison seem awfully friendly.” Fancy picked up the ivory pillow that was next to Hezekiah. She regarded it slowly then looked over his shoulder at the topaz colored pillow again. “If I was Pastor Graham, I’d keep my eyes and ears open, or he’ll look up and he and the first lady will be a thing of the past.”

  “Fancy, come on. Stop speculating. Skip is the building engineer. That man is all over the place. And not only that, he’s a deacon too, so there are going to be times when he and the first lady have to interact. What’s wrong with that? That’s how rumors get started.”

  Fancy shook her head and walked off. She wasn’t mad, because she knew how Hezekiah detested gossip, but what he didn’t know was that she had her own reasons for saying what she said. No one knew it, not Hezekiah, not Skip, not Detria, and definitely not Stiles, but one day, not long ago, she’d seen Skip and Detria going into Detria’s office. She didn’t think anything of it until she saw his hand touch the first lady’s butt, and not in an accidental way either. It was like he was used to doing it. What kind of building is he working on? she asked herself that day. She never told Hezekiah what she’d witnessed. Many times, she thought about telling Detria what she’d seen but then she talked herself out of it, saying that it wasn’t any of her business.

  The last thing Fancy wanted to do was interfere in somebody else’s relationship. She and Hezekiah had enough skeletons in their own closet, so she kept quiet.

  Chapter 11

  “Three things you cannot recover in life: the WORD after it’s said, the MOMENT after it’s missed and the TIME after it’s gone. Be Careful!” – Unknown

  Fancy was glad to be back in Chicago. She enjoyed spending time with her parents and seeing some familiar faces. She especially reveled in being able to have one on one time with Xavier.

  Xavier acted like he was happy to see her too. She took him shopping and bought him a pair of the new Jordan’s he wanted, and several pairs of pants and shirts. They had dinner together at one of the Mexican restaurants that had been featured on the show Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Both of them enjoyed the food.

  Things were different when she went to visit Khalil. She experienced a mixture of emotions. When she saw how healthy and strong he looked, she was overjoyed and grateful to God for sparing her firstborn son’s life. When he was first sentenced to the detention center, he looked like a feather could blow him away; he was just that skinny and scrawny. The heroin was killing him slowly. She was saddened every time she was faced with the reality that he no longer had his freedom. He was missing out on what should have been some of the most fun times of his young life.

  When he walked into the overcrowded visiting area, Fancy spotted him right away. She got up from behind the small round steel table and rushed toward him. “Khalil, you look so handsome.” She hugged him and held on to him for several seconds. He stood still, not bothering to return her embrace.

  Reluctantly, she released him, stepped back, and looked at him as she walked to their table. He sat down in the chair across from hers.

  “Baby, how are you?”

  Khalil mumbled something, but Fancy couldn’t understand him.

  She had purchased several pre-packaged snack bags from the commissary when she checked in. The plastic bag filled with cookies, candy bars, two sodas and two bags of chips were on the table.

  Khalil toyed with the bag. He pulled it open and got one of the sodas, screwed off the bottle cap, and put the plastic bottle up to his mouth, taking several deep swallows as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

  “I know how much you love your snacks.” She tried to laugh but found it hard. Seeing Khalil looking so unhappy hurt her to the core.

  Khalil still remained quiet. Next, he pulled out a bag of the chips and a package of strawberry cookies.

  “Honey, I know you don’t like being here, but I hope and pray that you see that this is where you need to be for now, at least. Look at you. You’re clean, you’re not somewhere robbing and stealing anymore. Baby, I’m proud of you.”

  Khalil finally looked up at his mother. His hard stare revealed his resentment and anger. “Whateva,” he responded with no excitement resonating in his voice. He couldn’t understand why his mom and dad hadn’t done more to keep him from coming to this God-awful place. It was supposed to be a place where he could get help and be rehabilitated, but it was nothing more than a prison to Khalil. He hated it, and he was ready to go home. He may have not been using heroin anymore, but he was still miserable.

  Next, Khalil opened a bag of potato chips and grabbed a handful.

  “Your father told me to tell you hello, and that he’s praying for you.”

  “Tell ‘em to save his prayers for somebody else.”

  “Khalil, don’t talk like that.”

  “Why? You don’t want to hear the truth? Prayer don’t work, Ma. All the stuff you and Dad call yourself doing for God, and for what? Then, Grandma and Grandpa are always talking about the church is praying for me and that they pray for me every day. Well, I’m not buying it. Nothing has changed, Ma. I’m still locked up in here.” Khalil poked out his lips, as he looked around the dirty, moldy smelling visiting area. “And you, Ma, you don’t need to be coming up here. You living a different life now. Anyway, you know if you get caught coming up in here knowing you and dad are convicted felons, it can cause problems for you.”

  “Khalil,” Fancy looked around and leaned in closer to him, “that’s not your worry. Me and your father know what we’re doing.”

  “All I’m saying is you living in Memphis now, so do your thing there. Don’t worry about me.” He got up from the chair. Khalil placed both of his hands in the side pockets of his dusty blue trousers. “Look, Ma, I gotta go. Thanks for coming, but next time, don’t bother.”

  “Khalil, sweetheart, wait. I just got here, and we have an hour visit. Please, honey. Sit back down. Let’s talk.” Fancy stretched out her hand toward her son. “I want to hear about the sessions they have you going to.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He towered over his mother who remained seated. He walked over to her, kissed her on her cheek, then turned and walked away.

  “Khalil.”

  “Bye, Ma.”

  Fancy stood to her feet. “Khalil, please. Don’t go. We’ll talk about whatever you want to talk about. Or we don’t have to talk at all. Just don’t leave.”

  Khalil turned back and looked at his mother.

  Fancy could see the sadness in his eyes. She didn’t want to see her son inside this place, but she knew that this was the best place for him. She prayed every day that Khalil would be healed and delivered from his addiction. If it meant he never wanted to talk to her or Hezekiah, then she would find a way to deal with it, if it meant he would be better.

  Khalil succumbed and stayed for the remainder of their visit. When visiting hours ended, Fancy held Khalil’s hands and began to pray, but he swiftly jerked his hands out of hers.

  “I told you; don’t waste your prayers on me.”

  Fancy stopped as tears gathered in her eyes. She caressed the side of Khalil’s face. He hugged her, stood up, then turned and walked off. Fancy stood and watched him until he disappeared behind the steel doors.

  Chapter 12

  “To know that one has a secret is to know half the secret itself.” Henry Beecher

  Fancy had
been back in Memphis for one week. She was glad that Hezekiah made it possible for her to go see her sons and parents, but now it was time for her to get back to living the new life she and Hezekiah were carving out for themselves. She had to trust that God would work everything out with her sons.

  She finished getting dressed for her meeting with Detria, which was in a couple of hours. Spring was her favorite season because she reveled in dressing in bright happy colors.

  There were tons of ideas she wanted to discuss with Detria about improving the floundering marriage ministry. For instance, she wanted couples who had been married for five years or more to mentor newly wedded couples. Another idea she had was to encourage regular date nights and short getaway marriage retreats.

  Studying herself in the bathroom mirror, Fancy put the finishing touches on her make-up. Her arched brows gave her a graceful look. Equally enticing to Hezekiah was Fancy’s thick, long, dark lashes that slightly curled upwards. Hezekiah would tell her often how sexy her eyes were. A slightly oval face, full luscious lips, and high cheekbones made her quite an attractive woman.

  She took a last look over her shoulder at the house they’d been living in for two months. A broad smile revealed glistening white teeth. She loved their new home. They felt like they’d finally been given a new chance, and a new opportunity to make a better life for themselves.

  Fancy’s decorating was much like her name: fancy. She adored high-end items. Now that Hezekiah was associate pastor and making a pretty decent salary, he could afford to let Fancy indulge a little. He wanted his wife to be happy. She was the one who had stuck by him when he was a youngster getting into all sorts of stupid stuff like gangbanging and slanging drugs. It was only by the grace of God that he’d never been caught or worse yet, killed, like some of his friends. Sure, he and Fancy didn’t exactly have a squeaky clean past, but he and Fancy loved God. Believing that it was only important that God forgive them for their past transgressions, Hezekiah saw no need to tell Stiles anything about his life before coming to Memphis. Stiles only knew that he was from Chicago, had two sons, and that he and Fancy moved to Memphis because of finances.