The Bishop's Daughter (24 page)
I let out a sigh of relief and leave my mother and Leon to take a walk around the hospital grounds. Need to blow off some steam and get my head right before I see my father.
If it weren’t Christmas Day, I’d call Bishop Prentiss. I need some prayer or counseling or both. Maybe I just need some reassurance that I’m doing the right thing in defying my father’s wishes. I don’t know.
When I’m done with my walk, my mother is gone from the waiting area, but Leon is still there.
“She’s in with your father. Room 2157.”
I have to blink back tears when I see my father with wires coming from his nose and an IV dripping into his arm. He has always looked so intimidating, but now he seems small and vulnerable.
“How you feeling, Dad?”
“Been better,” he says with a light smile.
I go over to the side of the bed and embrace my father. I can’t remember the last time we hugged. Yes, I do—it was at my high school graduation.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” I try to make my voice steady, but it comes out sounding like I’m five years old.
“Me, too, son. Live your life.”
“Thanks for your blessing.”
He clears his throat. “You have my blessing … not my money.”
Can’t help but laugh. It takes more than a heart attack to loosen Mathis Bainbridge’s purse strings.
Emoni
M
erry Christmas, Emoni.”
This is Sascha, waking me up at the crack of dawn like she used to do when we were little girls. I smell biscuits baking. Not homemade, but Mother can put her foot in some Pillsbury.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Ooh … you need to go back to sleep and try that again. You look and sound like the Grinch.”
That about sums up the way I feel. Downright Grinchy. I’m not looking forward to spending the day with Oscar breathing down my neck, harassing me about getting engaged, not to mention that Ophelia and Kevin will be here, too.
Fun times. “Wake me up when breakfast is ready.”
Sascha shakes her head. “No can do. You have company. Oscar is here already and asking for his lady love.”
I throw a pillow at Sascha. “There should be rules about this!”
Sascha giggles and closes my door. Pregnancy has made her entirely too pleasant. It’s a good thing her wedding is in two weeks, because her little bump is going to be a big bump real soon.
I drag myself out of the bed and look for something festive to wear. I select my Christmas sweater and a long jean skirt. I stomp down the hall to the bathroom with all of my shower essentials.
“What is wrong with you?” asks Tyler, who is coming out of the bathroom.
“Nothing. Merry Christmas.”
He gives me a juicy kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“Wait a minute. Why do you look dressed to leave? Where are you escaping to?”
“I’m not escaping! Love Outreach is delivering Christmas presents at five area women’s shelters.”
“Can I come?”
“Now, wouldn’t that be rude to leave your man here? I’ll be gone all day.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I’ll see you later on. Save me some of that turkey!”
“Sure thing.”
After a ridiculous amount of stalling, I come downstairs, trying to look as chipper as possible. Oscar stands to his feet and kisses me on the mouth. My immediate reaction is to wipe it off. I restrain myself from doing this, because everyone is staring at me.
“I’m glad I brushed my teeth,” I grumble.
“Merry Christmas, Emoni,” says Mother as she puts biscuits on a plate.
“Merry Christmas, all. Where’s Daddy?”
“I’m not sure,” Mother replies. “He left in the middle of the night, said it was urgent. I’m guessing one of the church members was in trouble, because he was being very secretive.”
“Can’t he at least be off on Christmas Day?” asks Sascha.
Mother answers, “That’s my bishop. I just wish he’d hurry back so we can open our presents.”
Oscar says, “Emoni, can I talk to you alone for a few minutes?”
“Sure … I guess.”
Oscar and I go into the front parlor and sit on Mother’s pretty couch. Since this is Oscar’s idea, I let him start the conversation.
“Emoni, I just wanted to give you your present in private.”
“Oh, is that all? Okay.”
Oscar frowns. “What did you think it was?”
“I don’t know. So where’s my present?” I’m so relieved that this whole thing isn’t about setting a date for our wedding.
Oscar hands me a gift bag, and I take it with a smile. But as soon as I open the bag, my smile fades. This man has given me a wedding planning portfolio.
“What is this?” I ask with much attitude.
“I thought you’d like something that would get you organized in planning our wedding.”
I let out a long sigh. “Oscar … this is too much. I haven’t even agreed to being engaged yet.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I need you to wait for me to get all of this sorted out in my mind.”
He frowns again, deeply. “What is there to sort out? You either want to be with me or you don’t.”
“Oscar—”
Before I get a chance to finish my thought, Daddy opens the front door and saves me. I’ve never been happier to see him! As he steps in the door, I see why he left so early in the morning.
He’s gone to pick up my brother Kumal Jr.
I squeal, jump up from the couch, and hug Kumal Jr. He hugs me back and says, “It’s good to see you again, little sis.”
Mother and Sascha come into the parlor to see what all the commotion is about. I guess Daddy feels this is the time to make proper introductions.
“Everyone, I want y’all to meet Kumal Jr. … my oldest son. Kumal, this is your stepmother, Diana, your youngest sister, Sascha, and Emoni’s boyfriend, Oscar.”
Kumal Jr. hugs Sascha and Mother and shakes Oscar’s hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you all. I’ve never had a family Christmas, so I’m looking forward to this.”
Mother looks ill and sits down on the couch next to Oscar. Oscar asks, “Are you all right, First Lady?”
“No. I’m feeling faint.”
Daddy says, “Diana, I apologize for shocking you with this, but it was something I needed to do on my own.”
“Fine,” Mother replies. “Kumal Jr., how is your mother?”
“She was doing horribly, but Dad talked her into entering an in-patient detox center. We dropped her off before we came here.”
“Wonderful,” says Mother as she rises from the couch. “I’m going to check on dinner.”
Sascha and I look at each other and laugh; there is nothing to check on. The caterers are preparing the food and bringing it later this afternoon. All Mother has to do is serve cookies.
Kumal asks, “Emoni, is this the young man who was with you in Savannah? I’d like to apologize for my rudeness that day.”
“N-no. That was someone else.”
Oscar states, “That was her ex-boyfriend. I doubt if you’ll get a chance to see him today—or ever, for that matter.”
I roll my eyes and say to Kumal, “You might see him at Sascha’s wedding. You are coming to Sascha’s wedding, right?”
“Am I invited?”
Sascha gushes, “Of course you are! I can’t wait for you to meet my fiancé.”
“Someone is missing. Where’s my brother, Tyler?” asks Kumal.
I answer, “He’ll be back later. He’s off doing some charity work with his church.”
“He doesn’t go to Freedom of Life?”
“That is a long story, and not one for a holiday,” Sascha replies.
The doorbell rings again. This time it’s Kevin and Sister Ophelia. Sascha kisses Kevin full on the lips while everyone watches.
Ophelia sucks her teeth. “Y’all can at least not fornicate on this day that we celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus!” She marches through the parlor and sits down on the couch. Kumal Jr. takes a seat next to her. Ophelia narrows her eyes and looks Kumal Jr. up and down. “Who are you?” she asks.
Kumal Jr. extends his hand. “My name is Kumal Jr. I’m Bishop Prentiss’s oldest son.”
Ophelia looks from face to face in the room for an explanation. When none is offered, she says, “Emoni, baby, go and get me a glass of water. I’m feeling a little dehydrated.”
I’m glad to escape the room so I can let loose the floodgates of laughter. Ophelia looks like she just saw Lazarus rise from the dead and push the stone from in front of his tomb. Somebody’s going to have to clear things up for her before she puts her own spin on it.
Daddy is in the kitchen, fixing a tray of cookies and cocoa for everyone. He is humming to himself, and there is a peaceful expression on his face. He looks truly happy.
“Daddy, what made you reach out to Kumal Jr.?”
“I had a conversation with your friend Darrin. I felt convicted about not being a father to my son.”
“Wow. I’m glad the two of you talked.”
“Me, too. Where is Darrin, anyway? I haven’t seen him lately.”
“I’m not sure, but I think he went home to Cleveland. I haven’t really talked to him since Oscar and I got together.”
“That’s a shame. He’s a nice young man.”
I nod in agreement. “He is.”
Daddy draws in a long breath. “Emoni, you know I don’t like to get in your business. You’re an adult and quite capable of making decisions …”
“But?”
“But are you sure you want to date Oscar?” Daddy pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit down.
“Why are you asking me that, Daddy?”
“Because I know you, and you’re not happy. You should be ecstatic about your relationship.”
“I want to be happy! I do! But I just keep thinking I might be making a big mistake.”
“Honey, there is no harm in waiting until you’re sure. If Oscar loves you like he says he does, he’ll wait.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Daddy, because he’s been pressuring me a little. I’m just not ready.”
Daddy’s face darkens into a frown. “Do you need me to handle him?”
“No, Daddy. I can handle it.”
“All right.”
I stand up and get Sister Ophelia’s bottle of water, and Daddy heads for the parlor with the cookies and cocoa. Mother walks into the kitchen with puffy eyes and a distressed expression.
“Diana, what’s wrong?” Daddy asks.
“You had to bring him here? You had to bring that drug addict’s son in my house?”
“Diana …”
I try to sneak out of the kitchen, but Mother says, “No, Emoni, you stay. You need to hear this, too.”
“Okay …” I whisper.
“You all might think I’m being hateful by not wanting to deal with that young man. But I just don’t believe that he is your son,” Mother says.
I want to say, “The DNA doesn’t lie,” but I don’t. Mother already looks like she’s coming undone.
“Diana, I can’t just not be a father to him because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Why not? You’ve done it for over twenty years.” Mother snatches a cookie from Daddy’s tray and goes back upstairs.
Daddy calls after her, “You spending the holiday upstairs?”
“Don’t worry about me. Go raise your grown son.”
Daddy sighs and shakes his head. I try to encourage him a little. “Daddy, she’s being a drama queen. She’ll come downstairs later.”
But she doesn’t. Even after the caterers arrive and Tyler comes back from his charity work. She stays in her room while everyone eats the turkey and side dishes that she ordered. She doesn’t come down to open gifts, even though this is her favorite part of Christmas.
While Daddy and Sascha set up the yearly game of Pictionary, I grab Oscar’s hand so we can slip out of the family room. I need to have this conversation with him now, while I have the nerve and before I think too hard about being dateless and manless for yet another New Year’s Eve.
“What is it, baby?” Oscar asks.
I cringe at the endearment. It’s a reflexive cringe. I couldn’t have stopped it if I had tried. “Don’t call me that, Oscar.”
“I can’t call my girlfriend baby?”
“No. This is going in, like, warp speed. We went from Sister Emoni to baby in, like, five seconds.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is this: You aren’t the one for me. I’ve known that for a while. I’ve been selfish.”
Oscar’s face contorts into a mixture of pain and anger. “You’ve known?”
“Listen, you caught me when I was having some mixed-up emotions—”
“Caught? You act like I trapped you!” Okay, now he’s angry. Fists balled up and eyes looking wild.
I take a few steps back. “In a manner of speaking, you did. But I’m not angry. I just think we should end this before someone gets hurt.” I hand him the wedding planner that he gave me as a gift.
“So that’s it? You’re done with us?”
Why is he asking me this? Why is the ball always in my court, as if I know anything? I don’t know anything.
“Yes, Oscar. I’m sorry, but I am done with this.” I can’t bring myself to say “us.”
Oscar takes his coat from the rack and goes right out the front door. I see the wetness in his eyes, so I don’t try to stop him.
I thought that I would be cool with this. But watching Oscar walk out of my house is like saying goodbye to my future. Maybe he could’ve been my future. In a few years we probably would’ve had two kids and a house.
I go back into the family room to finish the holiday. Kevin and Sascha are gazing into each other’s eyes. Even with all of the mistakes they’ve made, they’re giddily in love. They act like there’s no one in the room but them. That’s what I want.
Not someone who can only make me say maybe.
Darrin
P
raise the Lord, Brother Darrin.”
“He’s worthy, Sister Ophelia.”
I’m back in Atlanta, and it’s New Year’s Eve. Not at a party; don’t have a date. Sitting up in church like somebody saved for real. Talking to Sister Ophelia and not the pretty girl who just smiled and winked at me.
Ophelia cocks her head to the side and comments, “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight. Baby saints usually backslide on this particular holiday.”
She’s unbelievable. I smile and reply, “Must be the Holy Spirit.”
“It’s
something.
” She walks away from me and to her seat because service is about to start. It’s a full house, like Sunday-morning worship.