Faith Alone Read online

Chapter 10

  I stopped at the smoothie shop on Georgia Avenue, a few blocks north of Howard University, before visiting Lady Kendra. I called the church earlier, and they told me I could come by during lunch. Lady Kendra loved her healthy snacks, and I wanted to surprise her.

  Greeting me with a hug, Lady Kendra appeared in the waiting area outside of her office, looking as though she was fresh out of a yoga class, wearing the cutest tennis shoes.

  “Is one of those green concoctions for me?” “Of course. I knew that you loved them.”

  “I’m so glad that you called today. You know you’ve been in our prayers.”

  Pastor Smith and Lady Kendra were a dynamic duo. His preaching style was more teaching that resonated with the congregation. Lady Kendra’s work ethic and graciousness pulled people to her like a magnet.

  “Yes, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been returning your calls.”

  Lady Kendra had called me a few times, and I felt like a sinner because I didn’t call her back. Who did that? Knowing how busy she stayed with the church and that she took time from her schedule to personally call me. I was guilty.

  Fanning her hand, she said, “Don’t worry about that. I know that the last few weeks have been hard. I’m glad God led you here so that we could connect.”

  “It has been hard. There were days when I couldn't get out of bed. There were days when I heard Brian's voice. But most of all, it has been the guilt...” Letting out an exasperated sigh, I reached for a tissue and continued, “The guilt of being mad at God. It seems that for the second time in my life, He took love away from me. I've felt so guilty about my questions, especially when I asked Him if He doesn’t want anyone to love me?”

  Reaching across the desk for my hands, she reassured me, “I counsel many people going through the same type of situation and who have the same questions.”

  Lady Kendra stood to pull her Bible from the bookcase. She sat back down, flipped the pages, and took a sip of her smoothie. She nodded and smiled upon landing on the scripture that she wanted to share. “Let's read this scripture together; John four and twenty-four.”

  She rose to come to the other side of the desk to make reading together more comfortable.

  In unison, we read, “God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth."

  What did this have to do with my issues?

  As if reading my mind, she said, “Sugah, don't beat yourself up for the way you feel. The fact that you even feel uncomfortable with those thoughts is a good thing. But, what I want you to walk away with today is that we worship God in spirit and truth, not spirit and perfection.”

  She let that sink in for a moment before adding, “You are not perfect, none of us are. Take things day by day. Sometimes you'll take a few steps forward and then take more backward. Allow yourself to go through the process.”

  I was not perfect, and I'd been beating myself up as though I was.

  “You'll feel God's peace as you go through the process. I’m not saying that it will be easy.”

  The church secretary buzzed the phone to let Lady Kendra know that it was time for her next meeting. I rose to leave, but she shook her head, motioning me to stay seated.

  Once she hung up, she told me, “We aren’t done. I wanted to talk a little more.”

  “I plan to go back to work. I feel better, and you will see me more. I’ll try to come back, slowly. But I don’t want to keep you any longer.”

  Before I left, we prayed. I knew that Lady Kendra’s office was a safe space. The Word, the Word, I was going to keep focused on the Word.

  Chapter 11

  It had been twenty-four days, five hundred and seventy-six hours and thirty-four thousand, five hundred and sixty minutes since Brian died. D.C.’s summer humidity decided to visit us earlier in the season this year; evidenced by the puffiness of my hair. The puffiness of my eyes, now that was another story.

  I didn’t get any sleep last night. I tossed and turned until I thought about my meeting with Lady Kendra a week before. Stay focused on His Word. I opened the Bible and started reading, this time. I woke up with it lying on my chest, the sun greeting me as if saying hello. Birds hovered outside of my window and their melodies added to the beauty of the morning.

  After washing up, I fixed toast and made a cup of tea, adding honey to it. It was Saturday, and I didn’t have any place to go, so I decided to take my Bible on the front porch and eat my breakfast. Brian had installed a ceiling fan on our porch a few years ago. Memories of us sitting out here as the sun rose surprisedly felt good. As I sat down and put my feet on the ottoman, I noticed an Uber driver looking at the addresses on each of the houses. Then I saw Vanessa pointing to our house.

  What is she doing here? She hadn’t even told me she was coming. My soror, my line sister, my girl; of course she’d come back. We were roommates all four years in college. Vanessa and I shared that journey and had not parted ways since.

  I stood up so that I could see if it was really her.

  The Uber driver drove past my house and backed up to a screeching halt when he identified my house numbers. Vanessa jumped out of the back of the car, followed by the driver.

  He popped the trunk, trying to get her bags out for her, but Vanessa shoved him to the side, “I’ll get them myself. You almost gave me whiplash.”

  “Ohhhh, I’m giving him the worst rating possible,” she said as she walked up the four steps, onto the porch.

  “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me?”

  Throwing my words back in my face, she asked, “Why didn’t I call you? Really? I can’t believe you’re asking that.”

  I ignored her remark, grabbed one of her bags and asked, “How long will you be here? I mean you know you’re always welcome, I was just wondering with these two big bags.”

  Putting her empty arm around me, she said, “As long as I need to.”

  We went into the house and took Vanessa’s things to the spare bedroom. It’d been two weeks since Vanessa was here. “After you get settled, come on downstairs, and we can talk.”

  Now would be a good time to tell her about the baby. If I waited any longer, she’d kill me. Her feelings would be hurt that she wasn’t one of the first to know.

  I went into the kitchen to see what was in there that someone other than me would even think about eating.

  I heard Vanessa coming down the steps and I turned to face her with a sad face, as there really wasn’t much to eat.

  “Why the look?” Vanessa eased out of her shoes, grabbed her phone from her pocket and plopped down onto the bar stool in front of the kitchen nook.

  “I wanted to fix you some food, but I don’t see anything in here to eat.”

  “I thought D.C. had turned into a,” using air quotes she finished her sentence, “walkable community.”

  After I thought about it, I remembered that a quaint restaurant serving breakfast and lunch only had popped up a few blocks away on Rhode Island Avenue. I thought we’d try it.

  As we walked to get breakfast, Vanessa told me about her latest adventure in skydiving. I was excited for her until she gave me the entire story.

  “I noticed a cute guy on Facebook whose profile pic was of him skydiving. So I thought that if I created a profile picture of me skydiving, I’d get his attention.”

  I couldn’t help myself; I literally stopped on the sidewalk. A biker was coming, so it was perfect timing. As Vanessa tried to continue walking, I grabbed her arm. “You did what, for what?”

  “Uhm, yeah. I thought it was a good idea. It didn’t work, but it could’ve. Guys want women who are adventurous. The picture didn’t attract him, but it may attract someone else.”

  I loved my line sister. But, sometimes I heard Tracy’s voice in my head, She ain’t wrapped too tight.

  Vanessa continued, “Don’t think that I’m not praying about it. Don’t think that I don’t trust God with this. But, you know the scripture says, ‘Faith without works is dead.�
� I’m just putting in my work.”

  Vanessa’s description of how she intended to meet her Mr. Right brought back memories of how Brian and I met.

  We met at a Mayor Marion Barry’s Youth Leadership Institute Alumni Conference. I was a participant in the leadership program while in high school. I returned to the annual conference to serve as a workshop facilitator. Brian accompanied a few of his players to the conference. Our eyes met, and the rest was history.

  Vanessa and I bought our breakfast, walked back to the house, ate and then, I curled up on the couch, and Vanessa pulled one of my throw blankets from the closet and fell asleep in the lounge chair. When we woke up, I knew that I couldn’t put it off any longer.

  “When are you going to tell me the entire reason for your visit?” I asked because I knew Vanessa; she just didn’t come to check on me. She might’ve needed some time away from L.A., and I wanted to find out if my suspicions were correct.

  “Well…you know I thought I landed a role-playing Taraji’s sister in a movie that is supposed to come out next year, right?”

  “Yeah, I remember. That’s why you left right after Brian’s…services.”

  Vanessa reached down to the floor and grabbed her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and showed me the picture of a man’s Facebook page. Although he was an older gentleman, he didn’t look too bad.

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  “He is the producer of the movie who kept making sexual advances toward me to solidify that I had the part.” The glimmer in her eyes dimmed, and her upbeat personality took a downturn. “That joker would not leave me alone.”

  “Did he..?”

  “No, he never raped me. But, if we were left alone, I think he would’ve tried. I had my agent call and remove my name from consideration.”

  A tear dropped from her eye which turned into a tsunami. Vanessa had been trying to get into A-list movies since we graduated and she moved home to L.A. She landed a few small roles but they didn’t pay the rent. Since she was a trained dancer, she taught youth how to dance and created a hip-hop dance group for kids.

  “I’ll get some wine,” I told her. Once we sorted through her pain, I’d reveal mine. I pushed myself up off the couch and walked into the kitchen. I grabbed two wine glasses, a bottle of wine and a can of Sprite. By the time I returned, Vanessa’s tears had turned into a light drizzle.

  Vanessa grabbed the remote control, turned the TV on and surfed the channels. I didn’t think that my Sprite would capture her attention. The glasses clicked as I put them on the coffee table, causing Vanessa to turn her head to the direction of the sound. “Why are you drinking Sprite? I don’t want to drink alone.”

  “Wait, I want to hear more about this scumbag who tried to take advantage of you.”

  “I’m good. It hurts me to my core that some men use their power to take advantage of women. Fortunately, I resisted. But, the casting couch is real. I refused to be a part of that in Hollywood. Now tell me, why are you drinking Sprite?”

  I uncorked the bottle and poured Vanessa’s wine, before handing her the glass. I waited until she took a sip before I announced, “Line sister, I’m eight weeks pregnant.”

  Vanessa’s shock exposed itself as she almost gagged on her first sip. “I’d better put this down and listen. On second thought let me get another sip before you continue.”

  Vanessa knew my medical history, so I didn’t have to explain my concern. Instead, she wanted to know how I was coping and whether Brian knew or not. Then she asked the question that I kept putting out of my mind. “Do you see this as God’s way of giving you a piece of Brian?”

  “I’ve thought about that, but I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a curse. I’m just getting used to Brian not being here. Going through a pregnancy alone and possibly being sick on top of that. Gurl…”

  “Just remember that God may have ordained the pregnancy so that you wouldn’t be alone. Let’s try to look at this as a blessing. Babies are not a curse.”

  Vanessa was always an idealist. I was a realist. But, deep in the innermost part of me, I knew she was right.

  “You now know everything, my dear sistah. The one thing that I haven’t been able to do is to begin packing some of Brian’s things. I hadn’t thought about packing anything, but the library up the street is looking for donated books and Brian had a ton of them. Since you’re here, can you help me get started?”

  “I’m here with you; whatever you need.”

  We walked into the den and started with Brian’s books. His Bible sat on his desk directly in front of the chair.

  “He might’ve been sitting here reading before…”

  “You’re right,” I told her. “He was in here most of the weekend before he passed. I was in bed most of that weekend.”

  I picked it up, closed my eyes and held it to my chest. I’d given this Bible to Brian for his birthday, two years previously. It was one of his favorites, The Men of Color Study Bible. It would be something that I’d pack up last. Before I put the book back on the desk, a piece of paper fell out, landing on Vanessa’s foot. She picked it up and handed it to me, without reading it.

  I almost fell when I read the note. Was Brian speaking to me from the grave?

  After reading the note, I didn’t doubt what I needed to do next.

  Chapter 12

  I was fortunate that Dr. Price had an appointment available. For the whole week, I still hadn’t answered the question if Brian was speaking to me from the grave or not. Sitting in the office looking at Brian’s note, his scribble was hard to read, but it was clear. There were two columns, one with the heading Boys and the other, Girls. The list of the boys’ names was long, but it appeared that he’d settled on Brian Joseph Jackson, Jr. That was the only name that didn’t have a line crossed through it. There were no names in the girls’ column but instead, a question mark.

  I told Brian that I was pregnant on a Thursday and he died the next Monday, so I was sure that he wrote this list the weekend before he died and he probably thought he had time to get back to it.

  I still wasn’t sure if Brian was speaking to me, but after reading the note, I knew that God was with me, giving me everything I needed when I needed it. A sense of peace began to fill the sadness dwelling in my heart.

  “Mrs. Jackson.” Dr. Price greeted me with a warm hug, bringing me out of my daze. “I know the last three weeks have been rough.”

  I took a deep breath, forcing a smile.

  She continued. “I’m glad that you came in. Based on the tests, you are eight weeks pregnant. How have you been feeling?”

  I thought about it for the first time. “I’ve been feeling okay, physically. Of course, I’ve been depressed, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to eat. But, one of my best friends is in town, and she’s been helping me.”

  “So, no morning sickness?” “Nope.”

  “Great. If you want to have the baby, we can discuss the details of the plans that I discussed earlier.” She let a beat go by. “And if you don’t…” She looked directly at me. “We’ll talk again next week. How does that sound?”

  I knew what she was saying. But I knew what I came to tell her. “Dr. Price, I’m going to keep my baby.”

  The brightness of her smile was her approval.

  I continued. “And I’ll follow your instructions.”

  She nodded her approval and agreement.

  “Can you tell me more about symptoms to look for and strategies that we might use to ensure that we stay healthy?”

  Dr. Price went back into doctor mode, hands folded on her desk. “Absolutely. Do you remember I mentioned before that your pregnancy is high-risk by default because you’re over thirty-five?”

  At forty-two, I didn’t anticipate getting pregnant. I nodded to let her know that I was following along.

  “You will continue to see me, as your primary OB/GYN. You will also see a perinatologist.”

  I was sure my face twisted when she said the last word.


  Dr. Price smiled. “Perinatologists specialize in high-risk pregnancies. We work together to do our best to make sure that you and the baby get the best care.”

  Continuing, she told me, “Signs or symptoms of preeclampsia are swelling, rapid weight gain, very bad headaches or dizziness. This usually happens closer to the end of the pregnancy, but I want you to be vigilant. Don’t hesitate to call us if you experience those symptoms or anything else that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

  Knowing that I’d have two doctors looking after me was a comfort.

  “There is one more thing that we might consider,” she said as I was just feeling a little lighter.

  “We may consider delivering the baby a few weeks before your due date. We’d want to ensure that the baby has developed enough; the closer the birth to your due date, the better for our little one.”

  If I counted correctly, I would be due in January. I might even have a Christmas bundle of joy. At that moment I felt that I was moving forward. Then I remembered there was one thing that I promised Brian that I’d do. He’d promised to do it with me. I knew he’d be with me in spirit. But, I was blessed because I had both of my girls in town to get me through the pilgrimage that I promised Brian I’d take. He said it would help alleviate the pain and the grief. I was ready to see if Brian’s prediction was correct.

  Chapter 13

  On what would’ve been Christian’s twenty-third birthday, I woke up to a rumbling stomach. When I felt last night’s dinner abruptly rising, my feet couldn’t hit the floor fast enough. Morning sickness greeted me like an avalanche blowing down my bedroom door. I threw the covers back and ran toward the bathroom on the other side of the bed. My knees and my head assumed the position in front of the toilet. I saw food from last night and then green stuff, as my body convulsed. I obeyed its command because the sooner it was out the sooner it would be over.

  It finally stopped. With tears in my eyes, I sat on the edge of the tub for a few minutes to compose myself, trying to steady my breathing. I hoped this morning sickness thing didn’t last long. I wasn’t so sure if it was morning sickness or if I was nervous about going to visit Christian. My hands trembled as I pulled myself up using the side of the bathtub to rise and remembered my conversation with Tracy.