Let the Church Say Amen (16 page)

J
ONATHAN STARED
at his image in the mirror. He looked elegant in his coal black Italian-made tuxedo. He adjusted his hunter green bow tie and wiped away the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

You’re doing the right thing,
he told himself.

It was a message he had been repeating nonstop for the last two weeks. Angela was a good catch. She would make a wonderful wife. But Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder if he would make a good husband, especially if he couldn’t completely give his heart to her.

He glanced at his watch. The ceremony was set to start in fifteen minutes. His father would be in any second to walk him to the front of the church. Simon was so proud. This was a moment he had dreamed of. Backing out now would not only crush Angela, it would devastate Simon as well.

“That’s not an option,” Jonathan muttered. He felt so confused. Part of him loved Angela without a doubt, but was it enough to make a marriage work?

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan noticed the huge cross hanging on the wall of the small choir room. He thought about the last time he’d prayed. It had been so long ago. He’d strayed from praying while he was with Tracy. He was too consumed with guilt. But now, he felt maybe prayer could provide some answers.

Jonathan took a deep breath and decided it was worth a try. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Hey, God, long time no talk to. I’m sorry I haven’t been turning to you much, it’s just … well, you know why. Lord, tell me I’m doing the right thing. Help me get Tracy out of my heart, so I can give Angela all the love she deserves. Amen.”

Jonathan looked up at his reflection again. He couldn’t believe how unhappy he looked.

“God meant for you two to be together, Son.” Jonathan quickly turned to see Simon leaning against the wall.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. You are doing the right thing. If God had meant for you to be with Tracy, it would’ve worked out. But you were led back home. That’s because He had something better in store. Angela.” Simon smiled. “You look great, Son. And I just saw the bride. Once you lay eyes on her, there won’t be any doubt. I’ve never met Tracy, but I’d be willing to bet she can’t hold a candle to Angela.”

Jonathan cast his eyes downward. Simon walked over and patted him on the back. “You can do this. Most grooms get wedding-day jitters.”

Jonathan inhaled deeply. “I know. I also know I’m doing the right thing. I want my son to come into this world with both his parents.”

“So, you already know it’s a boy?”

“That just slipped out.” Actually, Jonathan was hoping for a girl. How could he teach a son to be a man when he had doubts about his own manhood?

“Well, I believe you’re doing the right thing, too,” Simon remarked. “Now, let’s go do it.”

Jonathan managed a slight smile and eased his chair back. “I’m ready.” At least, as ready as I’ll ever be, he wanted to say.

His father was right. Angela was absolutely beautiful. She was wearing a white fitted bridal gown, with intricate pearls sewn across the bodice. It dipped slightly at her shoulders. Her face was uncovered, the veil hanging from a crown atop her head. She showed no signs of the life growing inside her.

They had chosen a small ceremony, with only close family, friends, and members of Zion Hill. The bridal party was small as well, just Kevin as Jonathan’s best man and Angela’s sister as the maid of honor.

Jonathan felt himself relax as Angela walked down the aisle to Kenny G’s “Wedding Song.” Angela’s cousin was playing the song on his saxophone. He sounded almost as good as Kenny himself. Her father, a tall, husky attorney with graying hair—who looked like he could break anyone’s neck who hurt his daughter—escorted Angela.

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably at the gaze Angela’s father was throwing him. He knew how protective Mr. Brooks was, another reason he didn’t want to hurt Angela.

Angela’s eyes shone as they met at the altar. She seemed so happy. Her enthusiasm was contagious and Jonathan began to smile himself. His smile quickly faded when he glanced out into the crowd. Sitting in the second row of the groom’s side, nestled between a distant cousin and a Zion Hill church member, was Tracy.

Jonathan began to shake nervously. He had written Tracy a letter telling him that he was getting married. Part of him did it to hurt Tracy. The other part wanted the letter to serve as confirmation that he was actually moving on with his life. But Jonathan never dreamed Tracy would show up. Had he come to ruin this day?
Please, God, no,
Jonathan thought. After the debacle with Rachel at Bobby’s wedding, Simon would probably go ballistic if there was any drama during these nuptials.

“Son, are you going to take her hand?”

Simon was smiling at his son. Jonathan looked down and noticed Angela waiting for him to take her hand and help her up the two stairs to stand at the altar.

“Oh, sorry.” Jonathan nervously laughed.

“You know these young grooms,” Simon said. The audience chuckled, with the exception of Mr. Brooks.

Jonathan stepped down, took Angela’s hand, then led her back up to stand in front of his father.

Simon began talking about marriage being a commitment and some other things Jonathan couldn’t quite make out. He wanted desperately to turn around and see what Tracy was doing. Was he going to make trouble? But Jonathan looked straight ahead the entire time Simon talked. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Angela, fearful that if he did, his eyes would make their way back to Tracy.

“If there is anyone here today that thinks this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” Simon said.

By this point, Jonathan felt like he would pass out. He couldn’t breathe as he waited for Tracy to come running down the aisle, imploring the wedding to stop, begging Jonathan to come out of the closet. Jonathan had the entire scene played out in his mind. It was his worst nightmare about to come true.

Simon waited a minute, then continued. “Since everyone is in agreement that these two young people belong together, Jonathan James Jackson, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, forsaking all others so long as you both shall live?”

Jonathan took a deep breath. “I do.”

Simon turned to Angela. “And do you, Angela Renee Brooks, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, forsaking all others so long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she confidently proclaimed.

“Well, then, by the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I now pronounce you man and wife. Son, you may kiss your bride.”

Jonathan’s shoulders slumped in relief. He managed a smile, then leaned in and gently kissed Angela on the lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Jackson.”

Angela turned toward the crowd first. Jonathan followed as Natalie Cole’s “Our Love” began playing in the background. Everyone stood up and clapped as Jonathan took Angela’s hand and they made their way down the center aisle. He nervously glanced over to where Tracy had been sitting. The spot was empty.

It’s for the best,
Jonathan thought.
My future is with Angela.

Jonathan turned his attention back to the crowd of well-wishers throwing rice at them. For the first time that day, he truly felt like he’d made the right choice.

T
HE STEAM FROM
the shower permeated Jonathan’s nostrils. The water was hot, scorching his back. But Jonathan refused to move. He needed cleansing. He needed to wash away all the ill thoughts he had, continued to have, of Tracy.

He was a married man now. To everyone who saw him, a happily married man. But inside, his soul was in torment.

A month had gone by since he and Angela had exchanged vows. They were settled in a nice townhouse, compliments of her parents. Angela had already decorated the place. From the Persian rug that lined the hallway to the soft leather sofa and loveseat, she had made the house feel like a home. But instead of enjoying his blissful newlywed status, Jonathan had never been more miserable.

What have I done?
he thought as he let the drops of water slide down his back. Jonathan had prayed every night for God to banish Tracy from his heart, but so far, God wasn’t listening.

“I’m trying to do right,” he muttered to himself. “I’m trying to live a normal life.” That had become his daily mantra. The words he needed to get himself through each day.

Angela was seemingly oblivious to his feelings. That was probably because he put on a good act, being the loving husband, showering her with affection. But he was just going through the motions. He thought marriage would change the way he felt, wipe away any lingering feelings of Tracy. Instead, those feelings had only intensified.

Maybe the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was true. Jonathan tried to call Tracy two days after the wedding, but Tracy never returned the call. Or the numerous messages Jonathan left after that. The one and only call he’d received from Tracy had been a voice mail left on his cell phone this past Sunday, when Tracy had known Jonathan would be at church.

“You’ve got your ‘Leave It to Beaver’ family. So now, leave me alone,” was all it had said. But just hearing Tracy’s voice made Jonathan’s heart pine even more.

Then he’d watch Angela doting over her protruding stomach, getting more and more excited about motherhood. She was out now buying stuff for the nursery, making plans for their future. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder what in the world he’d gotten himself into.

He flipped the water off when he heard the phone ring. His body seemed to breathe a sigh of relief once the scorching water stopped. Jonathan grabbed a towel and raced out of the shower and into the bedroom. Call Notes was set to pick up on the sixth ring, but Jonathan made it to the phone before it rolled over.

“Hello,” he said, gasping for breath. His skin felt raw as he tried to wrap the towel around his waist. “Hello,” Jonathan repeated when there was no reply.

“Hi.”

Jonathan felt his heart drop. “Tracy?”

“I’m sorry for calling your house. The number was on my Caller ID from when you called. And your cell phone isn’t working.” Tracy seemed to be choosing his words slowly.

“Yeah, I just changed providers.” Jonathan sat down on the edge of the bed. “I miss you.” He couldn’t help it. He had to say that, he’d been wanting to say it for so long. It felt so good to finally get it out.

Tracy paused. “I miss you, too. I’ve tried to stay away. I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jonathan moaned. “I know the feeling.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why’d you marry her?”

Jonathan stared at the picture in a silver-plated frame on the nightstand next to the queen-size bed. A wedding guest had snapped that picture at the reception. Angela looked so beautiful as she rested her head on his shoulder. They looked like a happy, normal couple. “I love her,” Jonathan finally responded. “More than you love me?”

Jonathan fell back on the bed, the towel dropping from around his waist. Despite the warmth of the room, he felt himself shiver. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can ever love anyone more than I love you.”

“Then why?” It sounded like Tracy was softly crying now. “I sat there in the wedding, watching, waiting for you to come to your senses. When your father called for anyone who objected to speak, it took every ounce of my being to stay quiet. I left when you kissed her. I just couldn’t believe you went through with it.”

“Tracy, I’m sorry.”

“Are you happy?”

“It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Are you happy?” Tracy repeated with firmness.

Now it was Jonathan’s turn to let the tears loose, let out everything that had been consuming him since he boarded that plane leaving Atlanta. “I want to be with you so bad it hurts. I think about you nonstop. I touch my wife and I pretend she’s you. Only it’s not working. I can’t get you out of my system. But I’m trying to do the right thing. For my baby, for Angela.”

“What about for yourself?”

“Tracy, don’t do this.”

Tracy exhaled slowly. “I know you love me. I know you want to be with me. I hear it when you call here and say nothing on my voice mail. I feel it in my heart.”

“I know, Tracy. I’m just so confused.”

Tracy’s voice resonated with conviction. “You tell me to leave you alone; that you really and truly love this woman and want to spend the rest of your life with her; that you didn’t marry her because it’s what everyone expected of you. Tell me that and I will go and never call you again.”

Jonathan was silent. He closed his eyes to ward off the tears. “I can’t.” Suddenly, Jonathan heard a woman’s sob, then what sounded like a phone dropping to the floor. He jumped up, snatched back the curtain and looked outside the window. Angela’s red Mazda Miata was parked in the driveway.

“Oh no,” Jonathan mumbled. “Tracy, I’ll call you back!” Jonathan pushed the off button on the cordless phone, waited a few seconds, then turned the phone back on. No dial tone. “Angela …”

He raced down the stairs. Angela was sitting on the floor at the bottom of the staircase, a shocked look across her face. The phone was lying on the floor next to her. She still clutched a Babies “R” Us plastic bag in one hand.

Jonathan eased toward her. “Angela, I can explain …”

Angela started shaking her head like she was in a daze. “The phone was ringing when I walked in. I … I just answered it.” Her chest started heaving. She dropped the bag, clutched her stomach, and began rocking back and forth. “I never meant to keep listening, but … oh, my God. I don’t believe this is happening.”

Jonathan slowly kneeled down next to her. “Please, let me explain.”

Angela kept shaking her head. “Explain what? That my husband is gay? That he married me in some quest to find his manhood? This can’t be happening to me.”

Jonathan reached out to try and take her hand. “I love you.”

Angela jerked her hand away.
“DON’T! Don’t you dare say that to me, you liar!”
Angela scooted back against the wall, a crazed look across her face. She grasped her head with both hands. “You’re gay? And your lover was at our wedding?”

She began sobbing uncontrollably. Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t explain away what she’d heard; he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

He had to at least try to say something, though.

“Angela, it’s not like that. Tracy and I are over.”

“So you admit it?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

Jonathan took a moment to gather his words. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I mean, yes, I did have a relationship with Tracy, but it’s over.”

“It doesn’t sound like you want it to be. For God’s sake, you were crying!”

Jonathan leaned back on the wall next to Angela. He had no idea what to say to her.

“I thought if I got married, then—”

“Then what? You wouldn’t be gay?” Angela screamed as she stood up. Her eyes made their way up and down his naked body. “Were you planning on having phone sex with him or something?”

Jonathan looked down, just realizing he didn’t have any clothes on. “Angela, no. I just got out of the shower when the phone rang.”

Angela looked like she was about to faint. Jonathan stood up. “You shouldn’t get upset. The baby.”

Angela’s eyes widened as she grabbed her stomach. “My baby. Our baby. Oh, my God, what am I gonna do?” she sobbed.

“I’m so sorry, Angela.” Jonathan tried to reach out and hug her. Angela jumped away from his outstretched arms.

“Don’t touch me! You disgust me! Don’t ever touch me again! Just leave me alone,” she cried. “Get out. Go be with your lover.”

“Can we talk about this, please?”

“GET OUT!”

Jonathan backed up, looked at his wife standing there sobbing, and knew he had hurt her to the point of no return. “I’m sorry,” he repeated before heading upstairs to put on some clothes.

Ten minutes later, Jonathan was back at the bottom of the staircase. He had stuffed some of his clothes and toiletries into a duffle bag. Angela was sitting on the living room sofa, her eyes beet red.

“I’ll give you some time to cool off, then hopefully we can talk through this.”

“Your stuff will be packed and waiting on you tomorrow,” she said calmly.

Jonathan couldn’t look her in the face, he was so ashamed. “Angela, please?”

“Get out, Jonathan. And don’t ever come back.” Angela gently rubbed her stomach as she spoke. “My father will get in touch with you regarding the annulment papers.”

Jonathan looked down at the floor, before raising his head back up. “You’ll never know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did. Again. Now go.”

Jonathan didn’t know what else he could possibly say, so he threw her one last apologetic look before grabbing his keys and walking out the front door. And as much as his heart ached from the pain he knew he had caused Angela, Jonathan couldn’t help but feel the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders.