Count It All Joy Read online

  Seeing me sitting on the floor gluing letters on a paper sign, Taylor scooted out of her chair, onto the floor next to me, and immediately joined in.

  When Joshua walked into the room, Taylor asked him if he was excited about his impending graduation.

  “Do I look excited?” Joshua gave her a fake smile and walked away.

  “Uh-oh.” Taylor pushed her neck back. “What’s wrong with Rev?”

  I leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Leave him alone. He’s just a little stressed out, that’s all.”

  “Excuse me. I didn’t know I was bothering him in the first place,” Taylor said.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that.” I looked around to make sure everyone else was occupied. “It’s just that his mom kind of has him backed up against the wall, threatening him with guilt.”

  Taylor reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of gum. “Why is she tripping anyway?”

  “She wants him to take over his father’s church.” I leaned in close to Taylor’s face.

  “So what? I mean, his father is a middle-aged man, so he shouldn’t be retiring anytime soon.”

  “Well, actually, he’s having some health challenges so ...”

  “Oh, I see. So ol’ girl wants Josh to step in for the ol’ man, and Josh turned her down ’cause he’s planning to have his own gig, right?”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “She still doesn’t have to be so stink about it,” Taylor said, pushing a strand of her weaved hair from her face.

  I stood up with the sign. “No, she doesn’t have to be, but she is.”

  Taylor laughed “Well, it’s your mother-in-law.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said.

  “You’d better be glad you weren’t forced to attend his parents’ church.”

  “Girl, you know when I met him he was running from their church. No offense to his parents, but Joshua has always been more comfortable at Missionary.”

  “With all his parents’ stuffiness, I don’t blame him.”

  “Well, I think it was more than that. I think he knew if he stayed at their church, he’d never be able to break away. They’d always control him, what he did, where he went ...”

  “Who he married,” Taylor completed my sentence.

  “Girl, you know they tried that,” I laughed.

  “I’m glad you can laugh about it.”

  “I can now, but I wasn’t laughing when Mother Benning was steadily setting up Joshua with the members of her social circle.” I shook my head. “That wasn’t funny.”

  Suddenly I began to feel dizzy. I sat down, hoping that the feeling would go away.

  Shortly after drinking a glass of water that Joshua brought me, I felt better. So I continued helping with the decorations. At one point, I stood on a medium-sized ladder taping balloons to the usually dull-looking beige walls. Then the dizziness started again so I climbed down and sat on the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” Joshua entered the room abruptly.

  “I’m dizzy again. Just not feeling too good.”

  He sat down by me and placed my head on his shoulder. Then he cleared his throat and came out with it. His words were soft. “Do you think that you could maybe be ...?”

  “I don’t know ... maybe.” My heart raced at the thought.

  He smiled at me, and I smiled back. There was no way he’d know the fear I held in my heart.

  Now fear had a way of tangling my nerves and tearing me apart as the inner workings of my mind proceeded to wreak havoc on my spirit. God said that fear was never intended for us Christians. Mama used to say fear gets the best of folks, specially ones afraid of every little thing, even their own shadow. Mama didn’t believe in being afraid, but heck, she did believe in instilling fear. Taylor and I knew better than to underestimate Mama. She never did play.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t sure what I believed about fear. Sure, I knew God didn’t give us a spirit of fear but of power and a sound mind. But what did that mean for me? Did that make that churning in my belly every time Joshua talked about babies any less real? Every time he pushed up on me, I’d wondered if it was genuine love and passion, or if it was just a calculated attempt to get me pregnant. Was my frantic, chaotic mind really just a figment of my imagination, or had my fear become a familiar, yet unwelcome part of me?

  In any case, I ended up in the Brooklyn Hospital emergency room, and although Joshua and I both hoped I was pregnant, it turned out to be a disappointing false alarm. Apparently, my blood sugar was low. Imagine that. Low, with all the ice cream I’d been consuming.

  Sometimes it seemed like the thing I wanted the most was the thing that kept eluding me.

  Sure, I was depressed, and yes, I buried my sorrows in Baskin Robbins double chocolate fudge, but that wasn’t enough to make me forget the commitment I’d made to Joshua and to myself.

  It was that same commitment I was praying about when guess who walked through the church doors on Sunday morning? Sister “too much to take” Yvonne twisted her way up to me, with her naturally red ringlets bouncing against her shoulders.

  “Good morning, Sister Alex.” Yvonne had her lips pinched so tightly together that her fakeness exuded from her pores.

  “Good morning, Sister Yvonne.” I gave her a fake smile in return. Lord, forgive me.

  She gave me a pitiful version of the church hug, picked a piece of lint off the shoulder of my linen suit, and then sauntered up the aisle with her too tight skirt about to split, like she didn’t know better.

  It was hard on me, smiling at this sister, knowing that just a few months ago she had tried to seduce Joshua. She had come boldly into the church, pretended to be helpful, volunteered to help Josh, who was then my fiancé, with the homeless project, and then, bam.

  When she had finally earned Joshua’s trust and happily watched ours dwindle, she went for the kill. Thank God a brother came to his senses just in time. ’Cause I knew she was wicked from the very beginning, and she had evil plans for my man. A good man like Joshua, heck, I couldn’t blame a sister. Guys like him were scarce.

  She had disappeared from the church for a while, ever since Joshua and I got married, in fact. The word on the street was that she was modeling uptown. Now I wasn’t believing that at all. Dancing around on a pole, maybe. But legitimate fashion modeling, never. There she sat on the front pew next to her troublemaking aunt, Sister Winifred, with her legs crossed and half of her thigh exposed. I wondered why she came back to Missionary. Lord,aren’t I going through enough? Something inside told me she wasn’t back to save her soul.

  Chapter Five

  Joshua

  It was the day of my commencement ceremony at Brooklyn Missionary Bible Institute. It was two weeks before Christmas, and it was colder than usual. The crowd rustled around in thick leather coats and fur-lined boots. The wind whistled in the background as the familiar school noises took center stage. First, there was the familiar beat of pomp and circumstance as all one hundred of us marched down the center aisle in our caps and gowns. It was also an ordination ceremony for twenty-five of us, and I hadn’t felt this proud of myself in a long time.

  I remembered when God first called me to preach. I had been hurting pitifully after my first wife, Delilah’s, death. I was not only devastated that my wife and unborn child were gone, but I was also devastated because my wife died trying to get rid of my unborn child, the one I never knew I had. Yet, I was left with a baby girl and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. No one even knew what to say to me except that they were sorry. The few spiritual ones, like my father, told me to give it time, that God would use my pain for His glory, but I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t see it either. In fact, I thought my father had lost his mind. Didn’t he know how this thing was tearing me apart, that I’d probably want nothing more to do with God? Didn’t he understand that God had betrayed me by allowing the woman I loved to become a Jezebel, to love her career more than she loved me or ou
r children?

  “It will all be revealed in the fullness of time,” he said.

  And every day I went to work to keep busy, to stay alive and to stay sane until my parents begged me to move away from Rochester. I decided to move for two reasons: to get away from the memories of Delilah around me, and to be closer to my parents so I’d have some help with raising Lilah. I didn’t expect to marry again any time soon, so I knew I needed help.

  Mother was ecstatic because she never liked me living in Rochester while they lived in Long Island. She also never liked me being married to Delilah. I’m not saying that my mother was glad Delilah was gone, but I honestly don’t think she lost any sleep over her death either. So I moved to Brooklyn, and I became heavily involved in the church, throwing myself in and never looking back. It was either Jesus all the way or death. That’s how I felt. So I kept myself busy; too busy to hurt, too busy to even feel. I didn’t want to feel anything. I just wanted to work hard, day and night, and maybe even work myself to death.

  As time went on, my busy work became more content driven. I began reading, and studying, and hearing God’s inaudible voice. So I signed up at Missionary Bible Institute to help me understand what I was experiencing. The next thing I knew I was ordained as a deacon and feeling the nudge to preach the gospel. The more I went to God about it, the more I was pulled in, sucked in, like I had to do it to save lives—and to save my own.

  After I received my master of divinity degree, all of my family and friends gathered around to celebrate with me, including Alex’s Aunt Dorothy who gave me one of her usual warm hugs. Her arms were snug and soft, and she always smelled like vanilla. Alex’s dad came over and shook my hand firmly. Then he looked me up and down kind of suspicious-like, but I knew he just wanted to protect his daughter so I tried to overlook it. I mean, brother to brother, I respected the man. He had given me Alex and despite his shortcomings, that was all that mattered. My sister-in law, Taylor, was there too, but I noticed that Keith, her fiancé, stayed a safe distance away from her. I figured Taylor had probably been nagging him about something.

  Women could get on a brother’s nerves fast.

  “Congratulations, Deacon Joshua, uh, I mean, Reverend Joshua,” Minister Harris said.

  “Oh, that’s okay. Don’t worry about titles. I’m still me,” I said. “Thanks.”

  The Missionary church choir sang. Pastor Martin led the ordination ceremony. My dad and mom spoke briefly. Dr. Harding did his usual speech on vision and fulfilling the will of God for our lives. And I received my degree right on time. I felt really good, like everything was coming together. Everything except one important thing.

  Now that I was officially a minister, all I had to do to have my life on track was to just get this baby thing right. Thanks to Alex, that was becoming a real mess. She kept fighting it, making excuses. Then there was that terrible thing she did to her body all those years ago. I mean, she was forgiven, but man, why did I have to deal with that same issue again? After Delilah died, I thought I was done with the whole abortion issue. I mean, how many men have their wives die while murdering their child? And I knew those were harsh words, but that was how I felt about it.

  I had gotten past it, but sometimes I didn’t know how much more I could take. I needed to fix everything, to have a son with Alex and finish my family once and for all.

  I looked at her across the room and wanted to hold her right there on the spot, to tell her everything was going to be okay, that I was going to make sure of it.

  “I’m proud of you, son.” Dad pulled me into a bear hug, but he felt thinner than usual. My heart jumped as I thought about the possibility of losing him.

  I looked across the crowd at my mother. She turned in her very snug two-piece suit and winked at me. I remembered when I’d earned my MBA, how I looked out at my parents and my mother winked at me from the audience. Eventually she made her way over to me and gave me her longest motherly hug, with just a bit of warmth and a hint of discipline. It was good to know she still cared, even though I recently disappointed her. Mother was always tough.

  “Congratulations, Brother Benning.” Sister Trudy walked toward me with open arms and hugged me as if I were her own son.

  “Thank you.” The vision was all coming to pass.

  Then Sister Winifred waltzed over with her lips pursed tightly. “Deacon Joshua. So glad you made it through, dear. I was a little doubtful about you being called at first.”

  “Hello, Sister Winifred. Thanks for coming.” I was determined not to let her get to me.

  “Many are called, son, but few are chosen.” Sister Winifred looked around. “Where is your wife, dear?”

  I pointed over to Alex. “My wife is right over there.”

  “I see her now. Looks like she gained a little weight.” Sister Winifred adjusted her glasses on her nose. “You two aren’t expecting, are you?”

  I took a deep breath before answering. “No, ma’am, we are not expecting.”

  “Well, I guess I should go over to say hello.” Sister Winifred left me and walked in the opposite direction. Her smell of Bengay ointment made my nose tingle, reminding me of my great-aunt Mildred in Chicago, the one who carried hot sauce around in her purse.

  The crowd remained lively up until the time we dispersed for the graduation luncheon back at the church. Everything was decorated nicely with black and green balloons, compliments of Sister Dorothy and Sister Trudy, the official hospitality team from Missionary. If there was ever an occasion to make guests feel welcome, these two ladies were on it.

  Alex came up and put her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you, Minister Benning.”

  “And I’m so glad I have you to share all of this with.” I looked into her dark eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  I knew that at this moment the only thing that mattered was getting this family thing right, no matter what I had to do.

  The next day I was still high from yesterday’s events. At the job I did my usual prayer before I got started, and then settled down in front of my computer screen. As the assistant vice president of loan accounting for the retail loan department, it was my job to approve new loans and also to check on those accounts. When I did my checks and balances, I noticed a few figures were out of line, but not necessarily enough to become alarmed. I double-checked the columns just to make sure I was seeing right. I was used to handling multiple financial transactions and everything coming up straight. So I made a mental note to go back to the beginning of each transaction and check everything more thoroughly. Since my boss, Simon, the president of loan accounting, was a cool guy, and it was only he and I who had access to this information, I knew that it was probably just a computer glitch. Yet, when I took one final look at the spreadsheet, something in my spirit told me trouble was coming.

  Chapter Six

  Alex

  On Christmas morning Joshua and I were awakened by Lilah jumping into our bed. She was wearing Winnie the Pooh-footed pajamas, and her hair was standing wildly on top of her head in several puffs.

  “Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas, Daddy.” Lilah landed on top of her father.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetie,” Joshua said.

  I touched the top of her fuzzy little head. “Merry Christmas, Lilah.”

  “Merry Christmas. Now, come on. Let’s go.” Lilah grabbed her dad’s hand and pulled.

  “Okay, okay. We’re coming.” Joshua smiled as he slid his feet into his slippers.

  Lilah looked at me and smiled. “Come on, Sister Alex.”

  My heart fell.

  “Sweetie, didn’t we have a talk already about you not calling Alex that anymore?” Joshua sighed. “We’re married now, so Alex is your new mommy, remember?”

  “It’s okay, Josh.” I shook my head to indicate my disapproval of him reprimanding her. I could tell by the look on Lilah’s face, the title would have to be earned.

  “But Grandma said that Alex is not really my mommy,” Lilah said. />
  Joshua and I looked at each other in horror, and then I squeezed his hand.

  “Don’t worry about what Grandma said,” Joshua replied.

  I hopped out of bed and leaped past both of them. “Let’s see what Jesus blessed us with this year.”

  I marveled to myself at the way I had decorated the apartment, with fresh holly, a live tree with lights, porcelain ornaments, and stringed popcorn around the tree. Each of the windows had silver lighted angels in them, complete with silver tinsel as well. Yes, I was very pleased with myself.

  After I got dressed in a simple green and black pantsuit and we opened the gifts, we played one of Lilah’s new video games with her, then gathered one of her new dolls and we went down to the church to serve meals to the homeless.

  First, we set up the chairs and folding tables with red and white tablecloths and little fake holly centerpieces. We hung up a huge banner that read “The King is Born” before the men, women, and children started filing in. Some of the people looked like they had been down on their luck for a long time, but others looked like average people who maybe had a bad month or a bad year. Maybe they were recently widowed or unemployed. Maybe their spouses were laid off, or they had an unexpected family emergency that set them back. Maybe they had become ill and had fallen behind in medical bills. Whether they were low on cash or low in spirit, we had to rescue them. Whatever their reasons for being there, they were human beings, and they deserved to be served with as much dignity as possible.

  We took so many privileges for granted on a daily basis, living the good life whether we saw it that way or not. We were unequivocally blessed, and therefore, we had a responsibility to pass that blessing on, not just with natural food but with spiritual food as well. Pastor Martin blessed the food, and everyone proceeded to eat a mixture of turkey, stuffing, collard greens, rice with gravy, fried chicken, cranberry sauce, candied yams, baked macaroni and cheese, cabbage, red velvet cake, and peach cobbler. Loose conversations spun off between tables before Pastor Martin came forward with a brief holiday message.