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  By the time I came back into the living room, Joshua and his mother were already huddled together on the couch. Lilah sat on the floor playing with her doll. I walked over to Mother Benning and served her coffee.

  “Excuse me.” I held the serving tray in front of my dear mother-in-law. “Sugar or cream?”

  “No, thank you, dear. I’ll take it straight black.” Joshua’s mom took her cup and put it down on the center table. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “What are you trying to say, Mom?” Joshua repositioned himself on the couch.

  I gave Lilah a cup of apple juice. Next I walked around to Joshua and served him a cup of his favorite tea. He smiled and mouthed a quick “Thanks.” I could tell something serious was going on because the atmosphere had changed. So I lured Lilah to her room and quickly returned, perching myself on the arm of the couch next to Joshua.

  Mother Benning looked into Joshua’s eyes. “Joshua, your father is very ill.”

  Joshua looked directly at his mother without blinking. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Mother Benning looked away for a moment as if she were holding back tears. “It’s prostate cancer.”

  Joshua dropped his head in his hands and dropped his voice to a whisper. “How long have you known?”

  “We’ve known for a while now; but I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you.”

  Mother Benning took a sip of her coffee.

  Joshua raised his eyebrows. “The right time?”

  “Yes. We knew you’d be graduating soon so we were trying to wait until then,” she said. “Unfortunately, his condition has deteriorated even in the past few weeks.”

  “I wish you had told me sooner.” Joshua took his mother’s hand. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle this.”

  “We didn’t want it to be a strain on you with all you’re already dealing with.” Mother Benning peeked around at me and smiled.

  She’d only been here about twenty minutes and already she was pushing it. Yet, I forced my lips to remain closed. No drama tonight I promised myself.

  “What about you?” Joshua looked into his mother’s eyes. “How are you holding up?”

  Mother Benning spoke slowly, methodically. “I’m doing as well as can be expected. It’s a lot, but I’m coping. We’re coping.”

  I looked into Joshua’s mother’s eyes, and I saw an unusual vulnerability, not the same manipulative, conniving woman who had single-handedly tried to undermine and destroy my relationship with her son not that long ago. In fact, I attempted to forget the way she tried to set Joshua up with single women from her church while we were officially courting. One after the other, she encouraged a string of Christian debutants to make their move on Joshua. Thankfully, Joshua remained a man of integrity. I didn’t want to remember the way she constantly badgered Joshua about whether he was sure I was really “Benning material” or whether I would be a good mother to Lilah. The ultimate disgrace though, was when she had a private investigator dig up my college sweetheart, Ahmad, in the hopes that she would prove me unfaithful. Yes, Mother Benning certainly had her volatile moments, but this was not one of them. Instead of her normal flawless self, she looked drained.

  “I’ll be taking a leave of absence from public office so I can spend more time taking care of your father. And, of course, he’ll need a private nurse as well.” She ran her fingers through her long, jet-black hair. Not a single gray strand in sight.

  Mother Benning had been a council woman for years, was currently the president of the City Council, presiding at City Council meetings, appointing members and chairpersons of council committees, signing all ordinances, resolutions, subpoenas, and other documents issued by the council. She had actually considered running for Congress a few years ago. Ultimately, it was her love for the ministry that thwarted any greater political ambitions she had.

  “Right,” Joshua said, leaning over to hug his mother.

  Mother Benning pursed her lips. “Of course, you know we’re going to handle this aggressively.”

  “So what’s the next step, Mom?”

  “Exercise, change in diet, more rest, etcetera,” she said.

  “Good call.” Joshua stirred his tea with his spoon.

  Mother Benning shook her head. “It’s not my call. I’ve been preaching to him about his health for years. It’s doctor’s orders.”

  Joshua looked up from his teacup. “Well, maybe now Dad will listen.”

  “He has no choice. In any case, I’ll need to know where you stand.” Mother Benning put her hand on her son’s knee.

  Joshua searched his mother’s face. “Stand?”

  Mother Benning folded her hands in front of her. “Yes, Joshua. I need to know what you intend to do.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Joshua stood up. “You know I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Mother Benning stood also. “Oh, Josh. I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

  “What?” he squinted his eyes.

  “We need to know that you’ll be there to pastor the church when your father steps down.” Mother Benning grabbed Joshua by both arms.

  I looked at her and shook my head, having no idea what Josh would say to that. I didn’t envy his position at all. How could he turn down a plea by his desperate mother to help his ailing father in his time of need? Yet, at the same time, how could he ignore his longing to fulfill the specific dream God had placed in his heart, which was to build a dynamic church in the inner city, not take over an established one in suburbia? We’d had many intense conversations about him starting his own little church wherever God called him, and about how glad he was that he didn’t have to pastor his father’s church and deal with the constraints of his father’s leadership.

  I just stood back and watched Joshua tug at his mustache. Clearly, he was nervous because that was the only time he fiddled with his face like that.

  Mother Benning let go of him. “Joshua, are you okay?”

  “Yes, Mom.” Joshua walked away from her.

  “Are you sure?” Mother Benning followed him. “You seem a little withdrawn.”

  Now that was an understatement. My guess was that my very articulate husband didn’t want to say the words that would undoubtedly break his mother’s heart.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just that this has all been such a shock to me,” Joshua said with his back still turned to us both.

  “I know. Josh, when your father was first diagnosed three weeks ago, this took us by surprise too. But I need to know you’ll stand as you father’s successor.” Mother Benning walked in front of him.

  “Dad’s not going to die now.” Joshua hung his head down.

  Mother Benning sighed, and then sat down. “I didn’t say he was going to die, but he has been warned about slowing down, and pastoring a church of our size can be very strenuous.”

  “I know that.” Joshua shook his head and sat down next to his mother again. “I’ll have to talk to dad about cutting back on his responsibilities.”

  Suddenly Mother Benning frowned up her face. “Why don’t you talk to me about your responsibilities?”

  Joshua’s voice was filled with frustration. “What are you talking about, Mom?”

  “I’m no fool. You still haven’t answered my question.” She put her hands on her modest hips.

  “It’s a big question.” Joshua drummed his fingertips on the side table.

  Mother Benning looked directly at Joshua. “With only one right answer.”

  “Maybe you two—” I started.

  Mother Benning put up her hand to cut me off. “Please, dear. Stay out of this one.”

  My first reaction was to disappear from the room, but I decided not to let her bully me in my own house, so I stayed put.

  “Joshua Douglas Benning the Third,” Mother Benning said.

  Oh, it was on now.

  Joshua sighed. “Yes, Mother?”

  “You’re our only child, the only heir to our estate.” Mother
Benning’s jaws looked like they were tightening as the words sneaked from her lips.

  “I know, Mother.” Joshua clasped his hands.

  Mother Benning patted her foot. “Then why can’t you give me a straight answer? Are you or are you not going to pastor our church?”

  He dropped his hands and looked his mother straight in the eyes. “No, Mom. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  Chapter Three

  Alex

  Two weeks went by with Joshua’s dad’s condition gradually worsening as well as his relationship with his mother. According to him, his mother never directly mentioned the incident again, but she alluded to it all the time. She even mailed a personal postcard invitation to a church event to our home and addressed it to her only son. Still, I couldn’t believe that fourteen days had passed and she had not even called. Not once. Not even to speak to Lilah. Apparently no one ever said no to a woman like Mother Benning. She was, after all, very powerful, both in political and religious circles. Not to mention that she was a powerhouse in the family circle as well. Joshua walked around, moping most of the time, yet he refused to talk about it or to admit that he was hurting.

  In the meantime, he found solace in fulfilling his vision of having a child with me, trying every chance he got to get me pregnant. Not that trying wasn’t fun most of the time, but the stress was unbelievable. All I wanted to do was have an intimate connection with my husband, but all he was concerned with was fertilizing eggs. Not exactly something to get a girl in the mood. Finally, when the romantic flames had fizzled out, along with my patience, we sat down to have a serious conversation. Now that’s what I was really afraid of— talking. Talking always led to doing in our household. We talked mostly about my feelings following the abortion. Our talk revealed the fact that although I spent years in and out of illicit relationships trying to become pregnant again, I never could. Joshua handled the information well because he knew that old things were passed away and that I was a new creation.

  Against my better judgment, I finally agreed to visit a fertility specialist, one who came highly recommended by a couple from our church. Joshua and I agreed that even though we were both nervous, we would surrender our anxieties to the Lord in prayer.

  One week later, a strawberry-scented nurse led us to Dr. Henley’s office, which was decorated in mahogany. His degrees and licenses covered the mint-green-colored walls. Joshua and I sat in matching green leather chairs, staring through the window at the panoramic view of Manhattan. Finally, the doctor entered the room. He was tall, with blue eyes and dark hair with gray around the edges.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Jason Henley.” He extended his hand.

  Joshua shook his hand and pointed to me. “Hello, I’m Joshua Benning, and this is my wife, Alex.”

  Dr. Henley turned toward me with a smile. “Nice to meet you both. Is Alex short for Alexandria?”

  “No, sir,” I stuttered as I shook his hand. “Just Alex, sir.”

  “No need to be so formal. I want you to feel comfortable here,” Dr. Henley said.

  He first asked us about our specific concerns, and believe me, there were many.

  Then he explained that since we had only been trying for three months that there might be absolutely nothing wrong with either of us. However, he did agree that with me being over thirty, and since women’s fertility normally decreases after age thirty-two, that it was wise to be tested for problems sooner than later.

  Then he proceeded to check our general health, and thank goodness, we were both fine.

  He asked us questions about our lifestyle, like smoking, alcohol, and caffeine consumption.

  He also asked about possible environmental exposure to eliminate other factors that might cause infertility. Finally, he tested Joshua’s sperm count.

  “So no other births? Live births, miscarriages, or abortions?” the doctor questioned.

  It took everything in me to answer. “I aborted twins about eleven years ago, when I was in college.”

  “Were there any complications?” Dr. Henley looked over his glasses.

  “It was sloppy, and I contracted an infection where I almost bled to death a week later,” I said.

  Joshua held my hand. “That’s the main reason she’s afraid she can’t conceive.”

  “I see.” Dr. Henley steadily wrote notes in his pad.

  “We’ll have to test for PID, pelvic inflammatory disease.” Dr. Henley looked up from his notes and his eyes met mine. “It’s a very serious pelvic inflammation resulting from untreated vaginal or cervical infections. It does damage to the reproductive tract, often scarring and blocking the fallopian tubes. Scarring like this prevents fertilization from ever occurring.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That sounds so harsh.”

  “Unfortunately, it is. PID is one of the main causes for infertility in women. But the good news is that I believe in the supernatural healing power of God above all else.”

  “Amen,” Joshua said.

  “I’ve seen many babies born since I’ve been in this field. About two-thirds of all infertile couples are able to have a child. There are the natural remedies like medicine, surgery, artificial insemination, or assisted reproductive technology. And then there is the mighty hand of God. My colleagues don’t necessarily agree with all my methods, but prayer changes things.” Dr. Henley set his clipboard down.

  “We agree with you, Doctor,” Joshua said.

  Dr. Henley smiled. “Good.”

  I was too shaken up to say anything.

  One month later I trembled at the thought of even seeing Dr. Jason Henley again.

  One more test. One more doggone needle or urine sample and I was going to scream. We were monitoring my body temperature, positioning, diet, and anything else that was recommended. I was tired, stressed out, and ready to give up trying at what seemed to be so impossible. Obviously, I just wasn’t up to the task.

  “Why don’t you try those breathing techniques right before you leave home so you’ll be more relaxed by the time you get here,” Dr. Henley said.

  I couldn’t hold it in any longer, so I broke down right on the table. Tears began to run down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure why I was even crying, but Dr. Henley consoled me with his gentle spirit.

  “Why don’t you go on home and talk to your husband,” he suggested.

  I nodded in agreement, but I knew that Joshua would never truly understand. Everything I was going through was for him. Everything I was feeling was because of him. And even though he was kind and alluring, I had absolutely no desire left in me.

  When I came home, I threw down my purse and sat in the dark hunched over for two hours, waiting for Joshua to return from work.

  I heard his keys in the lock, but I didn’t move. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” Joshua walked over to where I was sitting on the couch.

  “I’m tired, Josh.”

  “Why don’t you let me help you to bed then?”

  “No, I’m tired of trying, tired of everything.” Tears dripped freely from my eyes.

  “Oh, come on, baby, we can’t give up now,” Joshua said.

  “That’s easy for you to say, but you just don’t know the humiliation I endure week after week.” I blinked away the tears. “I’m just tired now.”

  Joshua sat down and placed my head on his strong shoulders. He stroked my hair with his loving hands, and all my cares seemed to slip away instantly.

  “Let’s pray,” he said.

  “Okay,” although, honestly, I was too numb to have any real expectation.

  “Dear Lord, we come before you humbly thanking you in advance for what you’re about to bring into fruition. We’ve planted the seed. We’ve been faithful and diligent throughout the process. We’re expecting a manifested harvest in Jesus’ name. We have touched and agreed that everything would be okay. We thank you that everything in this family is better than okay. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “You’re right. Everything will work out.”
That was what I loved about him. He was so secure in the things of God. I remembered when I used to be like that. What in the world was happening to me? Was I losing my faith?

  Joshua wrapped his strong arms around me, and I felt so secure in them. He touched my hair and my cheek with his fingers, and for once, I was almost able to relax.

  When the phone rang, I clung to Joshua, not willing to let go of the moment. I hesitated to answer it until I saw that it was Dr. Henley on the caller ID. Joshua and I looked at each other in silent anticipation. Could it be?

  Chapter Four

  Alex

  Too bad Dr. Henley’s phone call was nothing short of catastrophic. For such an educated man, he had bad timing and an awful way of communicating disappointing news. He stuttered and mumbled, something that was totally out of character for him. Since our last attempts of conceiving had failed, he thought it was time for us to consider other options.

  Needless to say, this upset me beyond reason. Joshua tried to smooth it away as he usually did; hugged me tight, massaged my back, and even kissed me deeply, but secretly, I wasn’t convinced.

  So I did what I always did, hid my sorrows in service. I went on with my life, serving in ministry, working, and praying, but what nobody knew was that underneath my sanctified exterior, I was a cowering shell of a woman.

  Nevertheless, I went on with the façade even while working at the church. Joshua and and I went down to Missionary to help Aunt Dorothy and Sister Trudy set up for the annual children’s health fair. Two hours after we arrived, Taylor showed up in her wheelchair, which came as a shock to me because ever since she started using the braces a few months ago, she had put it aside.

  Still, she was my beautiful sister, an almost perfect replica of me, or at least a better looking me. How my sister kept everything together from her wheelchair was a complete mystery. So she’d totally earned my respect. I could hardly maintain my figure, and I was standing on two good legs. She spoke to everyone in the room, and then rolled over to me.