When Solomon Sings (5 page)

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Authors: Kendra Norman-Bellamy

BOOK: When Solomon Sings
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Neil laughed like she was a stand-up comedienne and had just delivered her best punch line. “Oh, yeah? Well I'd sure like to hear you pronounce the name you were just discussing when I walked in.”
CJ looked at his wife and steadied his voice while picking up her glasses from his desk and handing them to her. “Baby, do you mind giving Neil and me some privacy?”
“Not at all.” Theresa took the spectacles and put them back on her face. She then grabbed his clergy collar from the desk and gently returned it to its place around CJ's neck. “Do you want me to wait for you?” she asked as she tucked and tugged until it was neatly secure.
“I'll bring him home,” Neil said before CJ could speak. “This might take awhile, and I'm sure you don't want to be waiting around that long.” He turned his attention to his best friend. “I can bring you home, CJ, can't I?”
CJ gave him a long, hard stare. That innocent look plastered on Neil's face wasn't fooling him at all. He was doing this mess on purpose. It had been an exhausting day. CJ just wanted to get this meeting over so he could go home and grab some rest, grab some dinner, and before he retired for the evening, he hoped to grab some Resa, too. Neil was jacking up his plans big time.
“Is that all right with you, sweetie?” Theresa asked after seconds lapsed without CJ responding.
CJ clenched his jaws. He wanted to smack Neil for making this appointment, and then turn around and smack himself for accepting it. If he answered his wife truthfully, he would have to admit that it
wasn't
all right with him. Theresa had ignited a desire inside of CJ that made him want to throw Neil out of his office with the same fervor in which God had cast Satan out of heaven. CJ wanted nothing more right now than to take his wife home and finish what they'd so ill-timely started. “Sure.” He forced a smile and made his best attempt to ignore the needs of his flesh. Touching her stomach, he added, “You go home and get off your feet. I'll catch a ride with Neil.”
“Okay.” Theresa kissed his cheek again, and then stepped away and allowed CJ to walk around the desk and help her put on her coat. She picked up her purse, and headed for the private exit that would lead directly to the parking lot. Just before closing the door behind her, Theresa looked over her shoulder and said, “Don't be too long.”
CJ knew that tone. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He released a heavy sigh, and then turned to the object of his disappointment and stared at him in silence. There Neil stood near the door, wearing a stupid grin that assured CJ that his friend was not oblivious to the fact that he'd not only walked in at an inopportune time, but he also knew that although CJ was honoring his word to serve in the capacity of counselor, he was now aching for a different kind of therapy of his own.
“Whew. I thought she'd never leave.” Neil's continuous struggle to keep from having a good laugh at CJ's expense remained obvious, even while he took the liberty of sitting comfortably in the chair across from his pastor's desk. “Women,” he added, shaking his head theatrically. “They just don't know when they're imposing and overstaying their welcome, do they?” Then, rubbing his hands together like they were about to get down to business, he asked, “You ready to start our session now?”
Using slow motions, CJ returned to his chair and sat too. He nibbled at his bottom lip and looked Neil straight in the eyes. After a lengthy silence, he said, “You know what? Somewhere in the Bible, in the book of Acts, the seventeenth chapter, and somewhere around the twenty-ninth and thirtieth verses, we find that there was a time, in the Old Testament days, when God would
wink
at the ignorance of His children; meaning that His wrath and judgment wouldn't be swift when they were found doing things that were against His will.” CJ pointed a menacing finger in Neil's direction. “I wish God would
wink
at me for just a few moments; because if I thought for one cotton-pickin' minute that I would get away with it and that He would just chalk it up to my ignorance, I'd lock my office door right now and beat the living crap out of you.” Neil could no longer contain himself, but CJ didn't see the humor. “No. No. I'm for real, boy,” CJ said over his friend's loud belly laugh. “I mean it. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd climb across this desk and whoop you like you stole something.”
FOUR
By the time they reached the ninetieth minute of what was supposed to be a sixty-minute meeting, nothing was funny anymore. Not to Neil, anyway. In truth, the humor had dried up well before now. The meeting started with Neil talking to CJ, his best friend, but about twenty minutes in, the man sitting on the other side of the desk had gone through an obvious metamorphosis, changing into Pastor Charles Loather Jr.: his spiritual leader. Neil had sought counsel from CJ before, so none of it should have blindsided him, but somehow he was ill-prepared for the tongue-lashing. CJ's words stung. Some of the realities of what were discussed in the meeting had been a bit hard to swallow. But then again, those proverbial bitter pills generally were.
CJ showed no mercy. Was he using this meeting as an excuse to punish Neil for breaking up his little rendezvous with Theresa? They were coming close to knocking on the door of two hours, and CJ continued to bring up new things, challenging Neil to consider and then reconsider them. “Yes, you're an eligible bachelor,” he was now saying, “but you're no longer that young heartthrob you used to be when we were walking together on the campus of Morehouse College, hoping to look across the way and catch a glimpse of some cute Spelman chick. I ain't sayin' you're in your twilight years or anything, but if you think for one minute that you've still got your whole life ahead of you, you're definitely in the Twilight Zone.”
Neil took offense to the insinuation. “Are you calling me old?” He sat forward in his chair. “You tryin'a say I've lost my appeal?” The last part was what concerned him the most. Neil didn't mind getting older. Nobody ever believed him when he told them his age anyway. Young genes ran in his family. Even his mother had stumped some of the best age-guessers out there. But Neil still didn't need to feel like he was being called an old man, especially not when the woman he loved was more than a decade his junior.
CJ shook his head. “First of all, I'm a grown man. And most grown men ...” He caught himself, grunted, and then started again. “Most
straight
grown men don't go around citing other grown men as
appealing.”
He paused to chuckle, then added, “Besides, you and I are only a few months apart in age. So to say you've lost it would be the same as saying I've lost it, and my wife's got a baby in the oven, so I
know
I still got it.”
Whereas CJ popped his collar with pride after he said the words, Neil tugged at the Windsor knot around his neck until it loosened. He'd worn the blue silk necktie throughout Sunday morning worship with no problem, but now it suddenly felt noose-like. Neil had long ago accepted his childlessness as God's will for his life, but every once in awhile—like now—he felt a twinge of misery that he had never experienced fatherhood. Well, there were the children at Kingdom Builders Academy, but as much as Neil cared about the wellbeing and development of those little ones, it wasn't the same. To them, his title was Doctor. He wanted the title of Daddy. And not having it wasn't due to lack of trying; that was for certain.
In the years that his marriage was good, it was
very
good, and Neil remembered praying often that God would give him the child that he and his wife so desperately wanted. He would have been content with a healthy child of either gender, but in his heart of hearts, a son was what he desired. In the end, he may have not succeeded as a husband, but Neil had no doubt that he would have been a great dad. Despite his fervent prayers, in the ten years that he and his ex were married, they'd never even had as much as a “pregnancy scare.” Not even one. And like everything else that went wrong in their marriage, Audrey swore their empty nest was Neil's fault, but he refused to even consider the possibility. After all, Pop had given Ms. Ella Mae ten children, and all of Neil's siblings had children of their own, so it just didn't seem possible that sterility would be his lot in life. Neither he nor Audrey had been brave enough to go to the doctor to see who was really to blame. Not knowing was better than finding out the truth. That, apparently, was one of the few things they could still agree on at the end of their marriage.
In the long run, Neil had found a reason to be thankful in spite of the prayer that was never answered. He realized now that God had denied him for his own good. In one of the talks Neil and Shaylynn had early in their courtship, she'd admitted that she found relief in the fact that he had no children. Shaylynn told Neil that as wonderful as he was, she would not have entered into a relationship with him if he'd had kids; not if the mom was still alive. Where she'd grown up, and in the environment where she'd spent her youth, Shaylynn had seen more than her share of baby mama and baby daddy mischief. She liked her drama-free life and aimed to keep it that way. So if Shaylynn was the reward Neil would get in exchange for whatever it was that had hindered him from having babies with Audrey, the trade-off was well worth it as far as he was concerned. Besides, when ...
if
... when ... he married Shaylynn, Neil reasoned that he would have the son he'd always wanted in Chase.
But will Shaylynn allow Emmett's son to call another man Daddy?
Neil cleared his throat as his mind reconnected with his body. He looked across the desk and saw CJ staring at him in silence. Neil hoped that his pastor hadn't said anything that his wandering mind had caused him to miss. He loosened his tie some more. “So if you're not trying to say I'm old, what are you saying?”
“I'm simply pointing out the fact that from the moment you met Shaylynn, you've been captivated by her.” CJ rose from his chair, and calculated steps brought him to the front of his desk. He stood, resting against the brown oak furniture for a moment before hoisting himself up, and then sitting on top of it. From there, he looked down at Neil, who sat in a chair to his left, and continued. “Admit it, bruh. Even in the early weeks, when you were denying your true feelings, she had you hook, line, and sinker. It didn't take long for that initial bud of interest you had in her to blossom into full-blown love.”
All Neil could do was nod. It was all true. He was sometimes hesitant to admit that he'd fallen so far so fast, because even to his own ears the truth sounded a little too mushy. Neil was a man's man. It had never been a part of his persona to be sentimental and sappy. Before Shaylynn, he had never been the first to “fall.” Every woman with whom he'd had a serious relationship in the past had fallen for him first. Even Audrey. Everything about his relationship with Shaylynn was different from anything in his past. He didn't know if he'd go so far as to call it love at first sight, but it wasn't far from it.
Neil's dad used to call it “the thunderbolt,” and Pop claimed that very few men were fortunate enough to experience it. Pop insisted that the thunderbolt was a good thing. A man shouldn't fight it, and he certainly shouldn't be embarrassed by it. It was that
thing
that hit a man at first sight and made him know almost immediately that she was the one. According to Pop, the thunderbolt only hit men. Since Proverbs 18:22 stated,
whoso findeth a wife, findeth a good thing
, Pop said it wasn't possible for the thunderbolt to hit a woman. A woman wasn't supposed to be out looking. And he didn't care how much society changed or what people said about the evolution of the female gender, Neil's dad was adamant in his belief. Based on the Word of God, the thunderbolt was reserved for men, and Pop said it had hit him within minutes of meeting his Ella.
Countless times he'd told his growing sons, “If any one of y'all ever be lucky enough to be hit by the thunderbolt, I hope to God that you ain't dumb enough to let her get away.” Their father would look them in the face and point an unbending finger. “Marry that gal, you hear me, boy? Don't let her get away. Marry her,” he'd reiterate. “You ain't got to be courtin' forever. A thunderbolt relationship is a lifetime relationship. You can take that right there to the bank and cash it any day of the week.” And Pop must have known what he was talking about, because he was twenty-three when that thunderbolt hit him, and he said he would have married Neil's mother instantly, but her daddy wouldn't let him. Ella was only thirteen at the time, and her father said she had to be fifteen before she could marry. Pop hung in there, because despite the marked age difference, he knew she was the one. Once she turned fifteen, it was a wrap. They were married twenty-four short hours after the day he proposed, and they remained happy and in love 'til the day Pop died.
“Am I right; yes or no?”
The fog of memories lifted from Neil's head just in time for him to hear CJ's query. He had no earthly idea what question he was expected to answer. Were they still on the subject of how quickly Neil had fallen for Shaylynn, or was his pastor now talking about something else?
“Well?” CJ leaned forward so far that he almost toppled off his desk. And when Neil's pause lingered, worry lines etched their way across CJ's forehead. “Has something changed that you haven't told me about? You do still want to marry Shay, don't you?”
“Yes ... yes ... of course I do ... why wouldn't I? ... Of course I want to marry her ... yes.” Neil's words were so quick they strung together like a run-on sentence. The last thing he needed was to plant seeds of doubt in the head of the man who he would ask to be the presiding minister over the wedding. Neil knew CJ like the back of his hand. Friendship and brotherhood aside, if he thought for one moment that Neil wasn't completely sure that he wanted to make a lifelong commitment to Shaylynn, CJ wouldn't give a second thought to presiding over the ceremony. “That's not it at all,” Neil added. He felt like he was talking to the Jewish jeweler all over again; only this time he wasn't confiding in a stranger. “I'm sure of what I want, I'm ... I'm just not a hundred percent on what she wants.”
When CJ scooted off of his desk in one swift motion and stood silent on the floor beside his chair, Neil felt hot under the scope of his pastor's eyes. Although he wasn't looking at CJ, Neil knew CJ was looking at him. The room was so quiet that Neil could hear the seconds as they ticked away on the wall clock. He could hear the soft humming of the water cooler in the corner. He could hear himself breathing.
“Please tell me that this isn't still about Emmett Ford,” CJ finally said.
With his eyes locked on the wooden cross that was mounted on the wall behind CJ's desk, Neil forced himself not to grimace at the sound of his rival's name. He said nothing as he nibbled lightly at his bottom lip. His silence must have given consent.
“It is, isn't it?” CJ sounded disgusted.
“You just told me not to tell you.”
“Don't get coy with me, Neil.”
With frustration lacing his voice, Neil looked up at CJ and blurted, “What do you want me to say?” He stood and rubbed his hands over his graying temples. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but—”
“It doesn't just sound crazy, it is crazy.” CJ sounded equally as frustrated, and Neil knew why. They'd had this conversation so many times that it was stale, bordering on molded. “Neil, Mayor Ford died eight years ago.”
“Physically, that's true, but in Shay's mind, I think—”
“Okay, stop right there,” CJ ordered. He stepped a little closer to Neil. “Did you say you think? What do you mean, you think? I can't believe we're still having this conversation. At this point in your relationship with Shaylynn, you shouldn't be
thinking
anything. When we talked two weeks ago, you said—”
“I know what I said.” Neil plopped back into his seat. “You don't have to remind me.”
“Apparently I do,” CJ challenged, and then proceeded to do so. “You told me that you were gonna talk to her and get a clear understanding of where her head is. Even then you were telling me stuff that you
thought
. And now, here we are, two weeks later, and you're still
thinking
. What are you afraid of?”
Neil eyed him. “I ain't afraid of nothing.”
“The devil is a lie,” CJ replied, returning his glare. “You're afraid of
something
, that's for sure. That part isn't even a question. What I need you to reveal is the identity of that something.” Neil didn't have the opportunity to voice another denial before CJ continued. “You keep telling me how much you love this woman, and Resa tells me that Shaylynn feels the same way about you. But every time we talk, you're still strapped into the bucket seat of this same frightful theme park ride that is apparently called The Emmett Ford. You've brainwashed your own self into thinking you're in some crazy tug of war with this man.”
“Emmett isn't some figment of my imagination, CJ,” Neil spat. Just like that, he was back on his feet. He wanted to pound his fist on CJ's desk, but suppressed the urge. Nobody understood, and Neil was sick and tired of trying to explain it. “You act as though I'm making this junk up, and I'm a candidate for first dibs in the loony bin.” Realizing he was on the verge of screaming, Neil took a breath and lowered his voice. He looked his friend square in the eyes. “You've been here for every day of my relationship with Shay. I ain't telling you nothing that you don't already know, so don't make me out to be some kind of hallucinating cuckoo bird. You know about the ring. You know about the dried violets on her mantle. You know how she brings his name up in every other conversation. You know all that.”

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