Soon After (24 page)

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Authors: Sherryle Kiser Jackson

BOOK: Soon After
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Chapter 25
The Bedside Clinician and the Heavenly Prescription
Vanessa didn't realize when the doctors put her on bed rest that they actually meant spend the majority of her waking hours reclined in bed. She figured since she was home she could catch up with her housework and could potentially have the guest room cleared for the nursery. Her assumptions landed her back in the hospital two weeks after she preached her last sermon to stabilize her blood pressure and to fortify the baby in the event she was forced to deliver early.
With all the talk about late maternal age, Vanessa just assumed that it was her maturity that caused the baby difficulties. It wasn't that she wasn't being educated about her current state; she just wasn't a good listener. One nurse made it clear to her when she said, “In cases like yours our goal is to deliver you both alive and healthy as close to the baby's due date as possible.” Vanessa was forced to remove her cape. She realized she was just as fragile as the baby.
Around the same time, Vanessa gave up the notion of waiting until the day she delivered to find out the sex of their child. She didn't tell Willie immediately, baiting him into a guessing game when he came to pick her up.
“So what will we be raising, a young man or young lady?” he asked, staring down at her in her hospital bed the same day she found out.
“Wouldn't you like to know?” she teased.
“Okay, I see how this is going to go. In the bathroom, will the baby sit or stand?”
“It's a baby, Willie. You'll have to change its diapers,” she said, “and don't we all sit eventually?”
“Okay, okay inside the diaper, will the baby have an innie or outie?”
“It depends on how they cut the umbilical cord.”
Time went by and she thought they were done with the game, then Willie asked out the blue, “On prom night, will I be throwing our child the car keys or shaking down a date?”
“I guess it all depends on whether or not our child lands a date,” she said.
“At our child's wedding, will I be standing at the front of the church or walking down the aisle?”
“Are you assuming you will be officiating?” Vanessa asked.
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, because he sat in the chair next to her bed and positioned himself so he could lay his head beside her to rest while they waited for Vanessa to be discharged.
“Will our child follow in your footsteps or mine?” he murmured.
“We're both preachers, honey.”
He sat up suddenly as if he were possessed. “You can end this, you know.”
“You can too, by asking the right question,” she said, shoving him to let him know she was having too much fun torturing him.
“What would be a good name for our child?” Willie asked, relaxing his head back down as if he expected her to think of a unisex name like Terrie to keep up the mystery.
“Elijah,” she whispered, stroking the back of her husband's head as he kissed the sheets of her hospital bed with his smile, “because he will be a prophet like his daddy.”
Vanessa wished the joy of the guessing game and the possibility of their child's future could last throughout the duration. Six months of pregnancy had her nose spread across her face with strange dots, marks and moles appearing over her body that wasn't a good look to anyone but her husband. She was home once again, and her husband brought in a specially trained watchdog, Keisha, to check up on her when she wasn't in class. He didn't know Vanessa would be allergic to her sister's dander.
As much as she couldn't stand being treated with pet gloves and not allowed to do anything for herself when Willie was home, she almost had to remind Keisha why she was there. She didn't follow orders, and to Vanessa, she was too self-absorbed to be attentive. It felt like they were twelve and thirteen again, a time when Keisha would come into her bedroom and brag about having privileges when Vanessa was punished. She talked incessantly about the things she's done or places she's visited recently when Vanessa could only imagine what the hot August air felt like. It left her wondering what her mind was supposed to be doing while her body was at rest.
Just when it seemed like her sedentary state settled into a full blown sadness, Willie came up with the bright idea of having a Sister Circle one Sunday after church. It was a combination baby shower and Sunday dinner with her close sister-mother-friends from church. Pat even made the drive up. That and the fact that Willie had the affair catered and got a few of the guys together to serve her guests made the entire event bearable.
Vanessa wiggled into the nicest maternity tunic she owned and maternity jeans and joined her guests downstairs in the dining room. Pat, Mother Thomlin, Luella, and Alexis were all getting acquainted. A new glider with matching ottoman pulled up to the head of the table marked her place of distinction. Savory aromas came from chafing dishes set up on their wall buffet.
Willie came in with a pitcher of iced tea. Alexis went to grab it from him.
“Let me get that for you, Pastor,” she said.
“No, Alexis, it's my party and the men are serving today,” Vanessa said, winking at her husband to show her appreciation for his efforts. The women all applauded the day off.
“That's right. Just call me Jeeves,” Willie said, pouring a glass for each table setting. He reached for the bottle of cranberry juice left on the edge of the buffet to make a special drink for his wife that was more juice and less tea before leaving the room. He returned with a few men from the church to serve salad plates for the first course, and then they retired to the kitchen.
The attention turned to Vanessa and talk about everything from her swollen ankles to her roly-poly figure ensued. “I don't want to spend all afternoon discussing me. Shoot, I am home twenty-four seven with myself. Tell me about church and what all of you are doing. Please, I beg of you.”
Vanessa devoured every tidbit. Of course she talked to Pat and Luella almost every day, so there was not much to catch up on, but the minute details of Sister Thomlin's large family and Alexis's job were fascinating. Alexis shared that it was rumored around the station that her series of stories on Harvest Baptist Church would be nominated for a local news award for outstanding investigative news reporting. Her producers had also made mention of her becoming a full time anchor and co-host of the expanded hour version of
Inside 7
segment in the fall, leaving her with a lot to think about and just plain thankful to God.
Keisha finally arrived with her fiancé and future mother-in-law in tow. She carried two large gift bags for Vanessa and the baby, filled to capacity, which showed how else she had spent her time since quitting her job.
“Sorry we're late, Sister Pastor. The two of them got to talking so much after church like they couldn't bear to part from one another until we told him to just come with us,” Thelma Grant said.
“To the left, to the left,” Pat started, pointing back and forth in a steady rhythm from where Paul was standing to the direction he needed to move into to leave the ladies-only gathering. All the ladies joined in with similar hand motions until Paul got the message and joined the other butlers in the kitchen.
“Do we dare ask her what's new in the land of wedding planning?” Vanessa polled her guest. “She's been surprisingly hushed mouth about it.”
“That's because you've thrown a major monkey wrench in my plans,” Keisha explained dropping off the gift bags at the foot of Vanessa's throne. She took off her sunshades and folded the arm over the bib of her sundress to let it hang for safekeeping.
“Don't blame it on me,” Vanessa said with her hands up in protest.
“No, I blame it on the man that knocked you up,” Keisha said, raising her voice with no shame. “Y'all excuse me. You know after church it's no more pastor stuff. My brother-in-law and I love to go at it. I love him to death, but y'all know we were looking toward October for the wedding, but now that our guest of honor here is due and darn near out of commission until then, October is out.”
“That's why if we had planned it for the family reunion, you'd be getting married next week,” Thelma said. The future mother and daughter-in-law smiled at one another to remind each other this was an area that they would agree to disagree.
“I want to just push it back into next year now, but Mr. Grant is suddenly so adamant that we will be married before the year is out,” Keisha said, whispering this time.
“The man has spoken,” Mother Thomlin said.
“That's right, you can't make that man wait,” Pat said.
“What? Why not? What about my dream wedding?”,Keisha looked around the table.
“Girl, please,” was all Pat could say.
“Take it easy on her, she's young,” Mother Thomlin pleaded.
“Let me take this one, y'all. I might be on bed rest, but I can still write prescriptions,” Vanessa said, referring to her sermon footnotes that usually ended with a Bible verse or two to study. She forced her bulge forward to keep their conversation from wafting into the kitchen. “Did not Paul, the apostle, not your fiancé, say it's better a man marry than burn in his lust? Paul, your fiancé, not the apostle, is a hot, red-blooded, American male, and I don't mean because he spends time outside in the August heat. The man is tired of waiting and could care less about a corsage, bouquet, or color scheme.”
“I wish I had that predicament,” Luella said, slapping an awaiting five with Alexis who felt the same way.
“I know I got a good looking son. Don't be surprised when your natural instincts kick in when you're wedding planning over at his house or he's over at yours when I call late at night. Ain't that what you call it?” Thelma Grant said with raised brows.
“Uh-huh, I think Minister Morton needs a complete prescription; 'cause she's playing with fire. Too much can happen in a year,” Vanessa said.
“I can't tell you how many people Ben and I counsel that end up like Vanessa in between getting the ring and walking down the aisle,” Pat said.
They could barely contain themselves when the men appeared with their entrees, thinly sliced roast beef apparently carved in the kitchen. They each waited in line to add asparagus and a twice baked potato or rice to each plate before serving the women.
“That's right, Paul, serve your fiancée first,” Miss Thelma said.
“She was just saying she wondered if you had some
hot
buttered buns in there to serve up,” Pat added.
They lost it. Keisha was left red-faced and about to choke on a piece of ice as everyone else around the table laughed shamelessly.
“I'll check?” Paul questioned, not knowing what he walked into.
Willie grabbed his shoulder and whispered, “Run,” into Paul's ear.
When the coast was clear, Keisha had her own admission to whisper. “Why do you think I work out so much now? I got to do something with that pent up energy.”
“So that leaves the month of November and December in the year and some serious planning,” Alexis said.
“Paul's father and I were married on November fifteenth. It would have been twelve years if he didn't get killed out there in Vietnam.” Miss Thelma hugged herself.
“Daddy and Momma were also married in November, the twenty-third. They shared thirty-six years before he died,” Vanessa reminded.
“That's close to fifty years between those two dates,” Luella said.
“Who's got a calendar?” Keisha asked.
Luella handed her the pocket version from her purse. Keisha flipped quickly to the desired month and skimmed her finger to find the weekend that fit between the two dates. “November eighteenth,” Keisha declared with a smile. “I'm getting married on November eighteenth.”
“Good, now we can eat,” Miss Thelma said as if that was what was really holding them back from eating.
Cutting, slurping, and lip-smacking was all that could be heard among the women in the Sister Circle as they satisfied their basic need. Vanessa surveyed the women in the room and was thankful she got her mind off her mundane weekly existence for a little while.
“You know, Sister Pastor, I sure miss your weekly prescriptions. I still have that one about forgiveness you wrote me at the time I was going through with my sister and her family when they came to live with me that summer and nearly turned my household upside down. Matthew 5:44:
pray for them that despitefully use you.
Yes, Lord, you should write a book,” Mother Thomlin said between bites.
“That's a good idea,” Keisha added.
“Prescriptions—” Pat started, painting a picture with her right hand of how it would look and sound as a book title.
“For an ailing world,” rolled off Vanessa's tongue as if it were planted there. She was in a vacuum where all she could hear was her thoughts. She contemplated the many tough issues brought to her in counseling that she tried to tie up simply with a prescription. Then she thought about the countless sermons that ended with a course outline of study that she issued out in prescriptions.

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