The Other Side of Divine (5 page)

—Acts 27:18

 

 

 

P
aris had confessed Jesus when she was eight years old. But she didn't feel now that she'd done it with the right heart. In fact, she and her three friends had merely made a pact to go up together so they could get it over with. Even more, so they could finally take part in communion services with the little crackers and the small cute glasses of what the preacher referred to on first Sunday as wine.

She and her friends felt duped the first time as they braced for the impact of having wine during Communion, only to learn it was nothing more than Welch's grape juice. But it was okay because at least now (they were told) they were saved and would go to Heaven.

Five days later, Paris sat outside the office waiting for her time to be called. She'd joined Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, Pastor Landris's congregation, that Sunday. The following day after joining, she'd felt led to call and make an appointment to talk with him about what was going on in her life. Pastor Landris had talked about secrets and how they can eat a person up from the inside. She could definitely give witness to that. When she called to make an appointment, she quickly learned it would be months before she could get on schedule to see the pastor. Admittedly, she wasn't used to being told she'd have to wait to see her own pastor as she generally could show up at her former pastor's office and get to see him the same day.

Paris didn't want to discuss her problem with anyone
except
the pastor. She was quickly (though politely) informed of how things were done at
this
church. She couldn't argue much with the woman; it was a known fact that there was a large number of attendees at the church. She also found out that her financial status, as well as who her father was (or used to be) and who her husband was, didn't make any difference to these folks. Johnnie Mae, Pastor Landris's wife, was a counselor and she was available Friday morning. So Paris had taken that appointment, feeling that the anointing on the wife of the pastor was close enough for her.

“Paris,” Johnnie Mae Landris said as she stood before her wearing a light blue long-sleeved dressed that hung from her size-eight body perfectly. “You may come on in.”

Johnnie Mae had her own office she'd just moved into at the beginning of the year. Originally, she'd come in and help out, using an available conference room when she was scheduled to counsel. But her responsibilities had increased so much that she'd been given her own office.

Paris glanced around the nicely furnished space. It wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she was surprised it wasn't larger considering this was the first lady and most certainly someone with pull in the church. Paris sat down in the wine-paisley-cloth-covered chair at the invitation of Johnnie Mae, who sat in a teal executive leather chair.

“Is that a picture of your family?” Paris asked, giving a nod toward a family picture on the cherry wooden credenza behind Johnnie Mae.

Johnnie Mae turned and smiled. “Yes. Although my children are much older now and we
really
need to take a new one. My oldest child, Princess Rose, just turned twelve December eighteenth. She's excited that this year, she'll officially become a teenager. My son, Isaiah, will be six in June. Time most certainly does fly.”

“Oh my, almost a teenager. And teenagers certainly can be a handful. I know I gave my mother and father more than a
few
fits and their hearts a few starts. So your daughter's name is Rose and you call her princess?” Paris asked.

Johnnie Mae smiled. “No, her real name is Princess Rose.”

“Oh, okay.” Paris readjusted her body more comfortably in her chair.

“Well, I see you're a new member here at FOJFWC. So again allow me to welcome you to our family,” Johnnie Mae said.

“Thank you. I certainly have felt welcomed and loved since joining here. My husband and I went through new members' orientation this past Wednesday. It was most informative.”

“That's wonderful. So what can I help you with today?” Johnnie Mae said with a smile.

“Wow, we're just going to go straight into it, huh?” Paris sat back against her chair and released a slow sigh before leaning forward again. She was fully aware that this was also the home church of Gabrielle Mercedes. In fact, when she'd thrown down her threat to take Jasmine from Gabrielle, she'd done it right here at this very church on a Wednesday night. “I don't mean any disrespect to you, but is what we say in here kept strictly confidential?”

“Absolutely. We don't play
that
here at this church. Now, if there's something that needs to be discussed further with the pastor, then that's the only time something may be repeated. And Pastor Landris is not one who tries to hit people below the belt by putting their business out in public from the pulpit.”

“No offense, but how do I know what I tell you will stay strictly between us, with the exception of the pastor, of course?” Paris asked. “And how do I know you've not already drawn an opinion of me or that you don't already know things about me and you . . . let's just say, don't care for me much?”

Johnnie Mae leaned in and nodded. “Paris, I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I don't know about you and certain things that have transpired between you and one of our members. I'll even go so far as to disclose that Gabrielle Mercedes is near and dear to my heart, like a daughter to me.”

“Yeah, Gabrielle seems to evoke that kind of a response no matter where she lands.” Paris placed her hand up to her mouth, then took it down. “I'm sorry. That wasn't at all Christian-like and it was uncalled for. I'm trying. But as you can see: I have a lot of work ahead of me, a
lot
of work.” She released a nervous laugh.

“All of us are working on something at one time or another,” Johnnie Mae said. “So don't beat yourself up too much. But I will tell you that whatever you've done in the past,
I'm
not holding it against you. When we know better, we should do better. I'm praying that you've learned to do better since that situation. We're not going to look back; we're going to move forward. Is that all right with you?”

Paris nodded. If she told what she'd come in here to talk about, she was most certainly stepping out on faith. She didn't know Johnnie Mae. She felt like she knew Pastor Landris better, but that was only because she'd heard him preach and felt at ease when it came to him. She knew about some pastors' wives, first ladies as many either liked to be called or were called. Some of them were okay. But a few she'd known were something else behind the spotlight of having to be constantly
on
for the “cameras.” She knew many who were great actresses. Those were the ones who generally learned things about members of the congregation, pretending to actually care, then spreading it on the sly. So to trust Johnnie Mae without having studied her longer was a decision she'd have to make at this point, then stand on.

“Before we begin,” Johnnie Mae said, “I'd like for us to pray.”

Paris looked up and smiled. This was a good first step and one she greatly appreciated.

When they finished praying, Paris stared soberly at Johnnie Mae. “I'm pregnant,” she said.
There, she'd begun.

Johnnie Mae let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I sort of noticed that. So when is your baby due?”

“April twenty-eighth. It's my first baby. My husband and I have been trying for a long time, even longer than
he
even knows. He thought it had been two years when in actuality it was about four.”

“That's a blessing from God for sure. Congratulations.”

Paris nodded. “Yes. You would think it's a blessing.” She placed her hand up to her mouth and held it a few seconds before taking it down, and then began to cry. Johnnie Mae pulled tissues from the box on her desk and handed them to her. Paris wiped her eyes.

“It's okay. Take your time. Is there something going on with the baby? Something you haven't told your husband?” Johnnie Mae said.

Paris dabbed at her eyes, pulled more tissue from the box, and nodded. “Yes.” Paris was sobbing now.

Johnnie Mae got up and sat in the chair next to Paris as she rubbed her back. “Is it something with the baby's health?”

Paris shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. The doctors say the baby is developing wonderfully. I'm gaining the right amount of weight. And he seems to be perfect from the ultrasound and listening to his heart.”

Johnnie Mae took Paris's hand. “So it's a boy?”

Paris shrugged. “I don't know. We did the ultrasound and they asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. My husband, Andrew, told them we don't want to know. He's sort of old fashioned and said he'd prefer being surprised.”

“Is that your desire as well?” Johnnie Mae asked.

“Oh, it's fine with me, I guess. Although, I do like knowing things as soon as information is available. I guess I'm just nosey that way. I just like to know. I don't have much of a waiting gene in my body.”

“So is that the problem? You want to know and he doesn't? Or is it that you already know but you feel you betrayed him by doing it when he said he didn't?”

Paris released a short laugh. “You're kind of getting there. But it's not about knowing the sex of the baby.” Paris turned squarely toward Johnnie Mae and stared hard into her eyes. “You won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. You promise?”

“I promise. I'm here for you, Paris. We're family now. It doesn't matter
when
you come into the family; you receive all the benefits and privileges as those who've been here from the beginning.” Johnnie Mae grabbed both her hands and squeezed them. “What is it? What's troubling you so?”

Paris glanced down at her basketball of a stomach, then back up at Johnnie Mae. “I'm not sure if the baby I'm carrying is my husband's.” With her hands out of commission to stop them, tears rolled down her face.

Johnnie Mae released one of her hands and pulled tissue out of the box, dabbing Paris's tears for her. “Okay.”

Paris took the tissue and stood up, stepping away from Johnnie Mae. With her back turned now, she said, “I don't know what to do.”

Johnnie Mae stood and walked over to her. She turned Paris to face her as she held her by her shoulders. “Is there a chance that the baby is your husband's at all?”

Paris nodded. “Oh, yes.”

“So the problem is that there's a possibility your baby could be your husband's or someone else's?” Johnnie Mae said, getting complete clarification.

Paris nodded one time. “Yes.” She shrugged as she went and sat back in her chair. “And just so you don't think I'm some kind of a floozy or anything, I only slept with this guy one time. It wasn't a long-term affair or anything like that.”

Johnnie Mae sat down in her teal chair behind her desk and leaned in as Paris continued speaking with her head bowed down, looking at her folded hands.

“It was one stupid time. And the sad part is that I don't even remember it.”

“So, did this man drug you or something?”

Paris shook her head with her head still in a bowed position. “No. It was all my doing. In truth he was really trying to be helpful. I'd gotten plastered and was in no condition to go home. So he took me to a hotel room—”

“Excuse me? You got drunk and he took you to a hotel room and you see nothing wrong or manipulative about that?” Johnnie Mae said.

Paris looked up into her face and sighed. “No. Because the room was already there for me. I was drunk and really didn't need to go home because I was also upset with my husband about some information I'd just learned he'd done. He knew—”

“He?”

“The other man. He knew it wouldn't have been pretty if I went home drunk and in the frame of mind I was in at the time. So he was nice enough to take me up to my hotel room. I do remember coming on to him, so I'm not going to lie and try to make it seem like I was
so
drunk that I was
completely
out of it and blameless.”

“But you
were
drunk. He should never have slept with you knowing that you were not technically in your right frame of mind.” Johnnie Mae sat up straight in her chair.

“Oh, the kicker is the paper I drew up and signed stating that I was doing this of my own free will and volition. Sleeping with him definitely appeared to be something I wanted to do, although I was totally devastated when I learned the following day what had transpired between us.”

“Look, I think you should talk to your husband and tell him this, all of it,” Johnnie Mae said.

“If only it was that easy.”

“Is this person someone your husband knows? A friend of his or something?”

Paris chortled a little. “My husband knows him only slightly . . . by name. They're not friends or anything like that. But I can't tell my husband there's a possibility this baby isn't his. You should see him, how excited he is about this whole process and experience. He takes off work to go to my doctor appointments with me. He waits on me hand and foot as though I were a queen or something. He talks and sings to my stomach saying the baby is going to know him when he or she gets here. He's already bonded with this baby, maybe even better than me.”

Johnnie Mae sat back in her chair and nodded. “This is tough.”