Today's Pearls of Wisdom - The P31 Wife

You know her type. The house is immaculately clean. I mean the-Pastor's-Coming-Over-For-Dinner clean...every day! Her pantry resembles the shelves in a grocery store. Her flowers and landscaping are Home Tour calibre, and she grows her own vegetable garden. Her kids are well behaved, speak in complete sentences and even make eye contact when talking to adults. Her check book is always balanced and the bills are paid before the due date. This woman is or-gan-ized! Did I mention that she always smells like freshly baked pastry?

She's got this calendar thingy on her refrigerator that is color-coded so that there is no room for error in schedules and chore assignments. She's the Proverbs 31 Woman of the 21st Century and almost my complete opposite.

My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, was her generation's P31 Woman. The house my husband grew up in always looked like a show room and for years, he had a hard time understanding why I couldn't get it together the way his mother did. After all, she too had a full time j-o-b, was active in her church, and was also raising kids...and a husband (smile). So what was wrong with me? I wondered the same thing for years. Then one day it dawned on me that I simply wasn't her. Nor was I the blessed saint who raised me - my grandmother who also ran her house like a well oiled machine.

When I became a wife (again) some 23 years ago, I starting making futile attempts to keep all the balls in the air at once. I could probably pay a car note with the money I've spent on dry erase boards, Franklin Planners and other tools to help organize this circus I run on the corner of Wildemere and Thatcher.

After years of failure to become a Proverbs 31 Woman, I recognized that the blaring difference between me and the P31Women I know was not skills, but rather the choices we make in how we spend our time. Unlike the P31s, I spend a lot of time interacting with, and hands-on care for my family. On the other hand, the P31s tend spend much of their time doing, while I choose to spend more time being. This is not to be construed as an indictment against the Proud, the Few, the P31s; it's simply an observation of human nature.

My husband admitted that his childhood home was clean, almost sterile and so was the family's level of interaction. There were no story times, toys were shelved and on display in their original packaging rather than played with. Hugs and kisses were reserved for infants and toddlers. Conversation at the dinner table was limited mostly to the adults.

When I realized all of this, I chose to free myself from the guilt of not being a perfect housekeeper, but rather to enjoy my health, my family and the things I love being. I realize that revelation still doesn't afford me a license to be a slob. I learned to incorporate tools and habits which make my household what I like to refer to as organized chaos. My house is clean but not always neat. This year my garden is admittedly pitiful. Nevertheless my grandchildren and I splash about in their inflatable pool, hula-hoop, and make sorry replicas of sand castles like nobody's business.

I've just about mastered the art of multi-tasking. For example, I often take my laptop out onto the deck and chip away at my novels and blogs while the children play in the safety of our backyard. I do loads of laundry and serve my mom's lunch between episodes of Mr. Rogers and Caillou; and I still manage to crank dinner out at least five nights per week. That's in addition to my mom's breakfast, lunch and meds e-v-e-r-y day! Maybe that qualifies me to at least be an Associate P31 or a Suffragan P31.

A Word of Advice:
I would venture to guess that most of my readers are newlyweds or have very young families. At this stage in life it seems very important to please EVERYBODY. But I caution you to be sure to make relationships and quality time with your family a priority. If not, trust me one day you will look up from that mop pail and see a pair of long legs attached to the stranger who used to be your baby. The same one who currently paints your walls with peanut butter and jelly. Kids grow up way too fast. Enjoy these precious times while they're little because with kids, there are no do-overs. I wouldn't trade the love, joy and laughter we share for all of floors so clean you can eat off them and the neatly-folded-April-fresh laundry in the world.

Some of you might be feeling that you just don't measure up. Pray and ask the Lord to reveal what level of Proverbs 31 Woman He has made you to be. Perhaps you need strengthening and training in some areas, perhaps you need to substitute some activities for others. He will let you know just what is needed for your family. It's fine to have a role model as a template for how to run your house, but a Wise Wife realizes that one of the most detrimental things she can do is to measure her success or failure by someone else. Personally, I'm striving but not stressing to join the ranks for the blessed and highly organized.

Tip: There is a wonderful online community which offers a plethera of information and helpful hints for running your household more efficiently. Check it out! http://flylady.net/

Split Second Bible Lesson

In Proverbs 31, King Lemuel's sweet and well-meaning mother spelled out the characteristics of the woman he should consider marrying. She tediously listed the attributes that he should look for in the woman deemed worthy of carrying his honorable name and bearing his strapping sons and dainty daughters. I shared in a previous blog (dated June 18, 2008) that I did something very similar years ago when seeking the Lord for my perfect mate. The Queen Mother described a conglomerate of perfected traits that all of us wish we possessed. However when doing so, she was not gazing across a flowery meadow and pointing out an identifiable fair maiden. What mother wouldn't want her future daughter-in-law to be all that? The P31 Woman was, as described, a rare jewel... illusive and perhaps even non-existent in totality.

The virtuous wife/homemaker/entrepreneur described in Proverbs 31 is by all means a role model by which every Christian woman should aim for. We have to keep in mind that, as with all other aspects of our lives, we are a perpetual work in progress. So if and when we fall short of our aspirations to reach P31 status, we should not wallow in our shortcomings, but rather reevaluate our goals and continuously seek to understand God's perfect will for our lives. By the way, have you ever noted the fact the Proverbs 31 woman had servants?

Our God is loving, compassionate, all-seeing and all-knowing. He is even aware when we're perplexed about how to get grape juice stains out of little Kenya's pink church dress. We're instructed to take His yoke upon us for His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Matthew 11:29-30. In the meantime we are to acknowledge Him in all things, including what we consider the big as well as the small. Proverbs 3:3-5. So while we are busy going about His business, He is taking care of ours...no matter how trivial we might think it to be.

Fiction Friday - Featured Author Vanessa Davis Griggs

In Vanessa Davis Griggs' eagerly anticipated sequel to Promises Beyond Jordan, Pastor George Landris is back, but this time he's sharing the spotlight with a family of strong-willed, true-to-life women who must struggle to overcome wounded spirits and severed ties. Richly populated with complex, unforgettable characters, Wings of Grace is a fresh and engaging novel, Griggs' finest to date.

Because Lena Patterson never enjoyed a fulfilling relationship with her mother, she is determined to break the cycle and be there one-hundred percent for her now-pregnant daughter, Theresa. Raised by her strong and loving grandmother, Lena looks forward to playing a central role in her own grandchild's life. Then an older woman shows up on Theresa's doorstep looking for Lena. Lena is dubious, convinced that the woman is just looking to get her hands on an heirloom necklace. As painful memories from the distant past re-emerge, the ties that bind a mother to her daughter seem primed to endure a wrenching test.

Meanwhile, wedding bells are fast approaching for Pastor Landris and his fiancée, writer Johnnie Mae Taylor. But circumstances are taking shape that threatens to place Landris's pastorship, and his life, in grave jeopardy. Johnnie Mae, for her part, has embarked on a journey of her own. Performing research for an upcoming book, she crosses paths with Sarah Fleming, an old woman whose story will expose a range of startling truths and, ultimately, reshape the nature of Johnnie Mae's faith.

Wednesday Wisdom for Wives - Humility

A while back, the Lord gave me a clear, concise directive: Humble Yourself. I'm the first to admit that I thought myself to be ok in the Humility Department, but since I don't claim to know more than God does, I simply said, "yes Lord." Realizing that I'm a work in progress, I am seeking His face to show me the areas in which I need to improve and I've been led to share my thoughts, observances and experience with you as well. Perhaps there is one among you who also feels a tug at your heart to take it down a notch.


One of the most effective ways any of us can win a heart, an argument or a soul is through genuine humility. There is no greater turn off than a person who is puffed up and full of him or herself. In women it is unattractive and can be detrimental to relationships with those we care the most about.



In the case of proving a point, I found that there are four deadly words... I told you so. When it turns out that you indeed were right and your husband was wrong, it doesn't add any value for you to gloat. What can be gained by holding it over his head if you have more education or a better paying job than your husband?


Humility begats humility. Like any other aspect of our lives, we need to study our husbands. You will learn that there are some things that remain constants. For example, my husband is not big on asking for directions when road traveling so sometimes we wind up taking "the scenic route." There was a time when I would have yakked his head off and maybe renamed him wrongway. But now I simply keep some good reading and a journal in our vehicles. Unless our destination is time sensitive I just relax and try to enjoy the ride.

If you pay close attention, you'll notice that the enemy also tends to be a creature of habit and when he finds your Achilles' Heel he will try to use it against you many times over. Note the key words, phrases and behavior that cause conflict between you and your spouse; make a conscientious effort to resist the urge to tell him off or rub his nose in it when he errs. Strive along with me to maintain a Christ-like attitude when tempted to show off, or let him have it.


True Story...


Many years ago, a saved sisterfriend of mine served the Lord day in and day out. However, her husband didn't attend church and had no plans of ever becoming a bible-toting Christian. While my friend confidently prayed for her husband's salvation and deliverance, she went about the business of serving the Lord and faithfully discharging her responsibilities on the homefront. She invited him to worship services and church functions but never nagged or preached hell-fire and brimstone when he declined.

He occasionally agreed to attend outings and functions sponsored by, but not held at the church. In 2003, the Lord drew this reluctant husband to Himself during our marriage retreat. By being faithful to God and maintaining a humble spirit, this Wise Wife won her unsaved husband's soul to Christ and solidified their marriage.

As wives, it is our responsibility to set the tone of the household. Any chicken head can plant her hands on her hips and gloat or verbally attack her husband. It is noteworhty that being humble does not equate being subservient but rather; a Wise Wife is a women who is strong, confident in who she is and is controlled by the Holy Spirit.



Split-Second Bible Lesson: Esther Chapters 1 - 10

In today's vernacular, Queen Vashti blew it! She was puffed up and pride filled, she thought she was "all that." However her pride and vanity caused her to lose her plum status and was replaced by Esther, a young orphaned Jewish woman whose humility and obedience to God and to her uncle/surrogate father, Mordecai blessed her and enabled her to be a blessing to many others. Her humility and godly obedience led to the deliverance of an entire nation which had been targeted for annihilation. On the other hand, Vashti's high and haughty attitude caused her to be stripped of her title and evicted from the posh amentities and lifestyle she had become accustomed to.

A man's pride shall bring him low; but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit. Proverbs 29:23 (KJV)

Fiction Friday - Featured Author, Delores Phillips

The Darkest Child - A Must Read!

Someone must have pressed the fast forward button on summer. I went shopping today and was saddened to see that they've already started putting out school supplies! I still haven't set out my pink wax begonias and fuschia colored impatiens for goodness sake.

Nevertheless, the powers-that-be have deemed summer half over and we'd better squeeze every bit of joy that we can out of it. Those of us who live in the mid-west will be scaping ice off our windshields and opening heating bills with our fingers crossed all too soon.

But for the time being, it's sizzling. A Wise Wife realizes that "me time" is not an option, but rather a requirement. During this season of sweltering heat, I recommend that you treat the kids to an entire day out with dad. Once you have the house to yourself set the ringer on your telephone to silent then indulge in a cooling, soothing shower. Afterward, retreat to your favorite at-home sanctuary with a pitcher of something cold and delicious; then lose yourself in a riveting novel. Enjoy!

Venus' Picks

Cool Down Shower: Plain, old school Noxema on a netted sponge
Scented candle: Glade's Suddenly Spring
Novel: the Darkest Child, by Delores Phillips

Venus' Really Easy and Delicious Watermelon Lemonade - did I mention it's easy?

In a blender or food processor, puree 3-4 cups seedless watermelon and set aside
Prepare a pitcher of Countrytime Lemonade mix according to directions on the container
Stir puree'd melon into the pitcher of Countrytime
Optional: Add lemon and/or lime slices
Serve over ice
*Frozen melon balls or strawberries can be substituted for ice cubes


About the Darkest Child...
Prior to the completion of my debut novel, Brown Paper Bag, I visited a local Border's bookstore to visualize where my book will be placed when it hits their shelves. This is part of what I refer to as Dream Casting. As I sought my bookstore real estate in the African American Fiction section, my attention was drawn to the cover of this book. From the cover alone I knew it was destined to become a part of my permanent library. Wise Wives, I've never formally compiled a list of my all-time favorite novels, but if I ever do I can guarantee that the Darkest Child will be among the top ten.

Phillips is an author I've not had the pleasure of meeting or even exchanging emails with. She's a complete mystery to me and trust me I can usually track an author down when I'm in love with their work. Nevertheless, this novel is an absolute must read. Your emotions will run high, deep and wide! I must warn you, this is NOT a feel good book! It is powerful, ugly and brutal. Your heart will want to tuck it away someplace between the warm and fuzzies, but your mind won't allow you to put it down. It pulls the covers off the bed of family dysfunction, racism and human cruelty.

The following will link you to a synopsis and reviews from Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/review/product/1569473455/ref=cm_cr_pr_link_1

Fiction Friday - Featured Author Marilynn Griffith

It's Friday and it's hot and so is Marilyn Griffith's soon to be released novel, Rhythms of Grace. I had the esteemed pleasure to receive a review copy and Wise Wives let me share my "Testimony" ...it's an absolute must read! I dare not give away the details, just trust me you will not be disappointed.

Since we're in the midst of super hot weather I'd like to recommend that you enjoy this one poolside (even if you have to dangle your feet in the kiddies' wading pool) while sipping on a tall cool drink. My recommendation, Plantation Tea (which by the way is mentioned in my novel, Brown Paper Bag)

Recipe for Plantation Tea
12 tea bags
3 bunches of mint leaves
3 c sugar
2 c lemon juice
1 qt pineapple juice
4 liters ginger ale

Boil 3 1/2 gallons water. Add the tea, mint and sugar. Allow to steep for 30 minutes. Remove bags and leaves. Refrigerate. Just before serving, add lemon juice, pineapple juice and ginger ale. Splash over ice. Stay cool and enjoy!



RHYTHMS OF GRACE



Revell Books



August 2008



0800732782



$12.99 US


Learn more about Marilynn Griffith http://marilynngriffith.com/


ABOUT THE BOOK
Grace Okoye was a promising young dancer when her career was cut short by a brutal assault that left her scarred for life. Twenty years later, when her past gets in the way of her happiness, she heeds the invitation of her dance instructor and returns home to help hurting children and rediscover the rhythms of grace. What she doesn't expect is to meet a man who already seems to know her beat. But for all they share in common, the biggest thing in Grace's life is noticeably absent in his--faith. She's finally found the love of her life, but can she choose between him and God?
Real, raw emotion and the promise of redemption run through this soulful new book from Marilynn Griffith. Though being published in 2008, this is the first novel Marilynn ever completed and early readers think it's her best work to date.

My 2 Cents about Money and Communication

In the marriage enrichment sessions my husband Rick and I facilitate, Communication always presents itself as a challenge.

For a couple to say that they have problems communicating may be misleading. They could be communicating with each other perfectly well about religion and careers, but are not able to express themselves effectively about child rearing and intimacy.

In a previous blog, I asked for specific communication challenges and you provided me with plenty of them. One Wise Wife shared with me that Money is an area she and her hubby often find themselves at an impasse about.

I'm going to answer from an assumed viewpoint that both parties are willing to admit there is room for improvement and are open to trying a new thing.

Let's use the following scenario as an example:

Khalil and Ebony have been married for 8 years, have a pre-schooler, a 1st grader, and they have shared custody of Khalil's 12 year old daughter from a previous relationship. They are purchasing a home, leasing one car and buying another one.

In the beginning of their marriage they decided who would be responsible for which bills and had been able to pay all of their bills, save money and even have a little left over to play with. Ebony was accustomed to having her hair salon-styled every week, and splurging on the children. Khalil boasts that he is a Golfoholic and has maintained a golf club membership for years.

Recently, Khalil's employer cut his hours, which has affected his take-home pay considerably. It's become obvious that they are headed for serious financial problems. Although their income has changed, their money management style has not been adjusted accordingly.

Ebony recently noticed an increase in the frequency of calls from creditors. She has also noted that their mail has gotten a lot more colorful and the envelopes have messages stamped on the outside stating Time-Sensitive! and Urgent!

Ebony has made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to discuss the household finances with Khalil. He simply dismisses her saying, "I got this." Both times she ended up sleeping in the kids' room and not speaking to him for days. She took the initiative to cut her salon visits to twice a month and began to be more diligent in searching for ways to cut corners. She is disappointed that she has seen no evidence that Khalil is doing the same. She is reluctant to initiate another conversation, fearing a threepeat of the her prior attempts. However, she realizes that if they don't do something soon, they'll end up in Debtor's Jail.

My 2 Cents:
The wisest thing a wife can do when she has to have a difficult discussion with her husband is to pray. Rather than getting on the phone with our mom or girlfriends to talk about how our husband has done it again, we first have to have what I refer to as a vertical chat - talk to the one who can do something about it.

When having a hard discussion with your other half, keep in mind that a soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger. Proverbs 15:1 (KJV)

When it comes to certain topics, sometimes it seems that a meeting of the minds is impossible. However, as Christian wives we must have the type of love for our husbands and faith in God that believes for the impossible.

I created the following acronym which couples should incorporate during sensitive discussions.

Pay attention when your spouse is speaking
Respect each other's feelings and opinions
Acknowledge your own flaws
Yield to the Holy Spirit which will guide you concerning all things

Experience has taught me that one common shortfall in marriage is that couples don't plan for the what ifs. It would appear that this couple actually didn't do much planning at all and were operating in the "now." As Christians, we tend to shy away from preparing for possible hard times for fear that it somehow shows a lack of faith.

Khalil may feel that their financial woes indicate that he has failed as a provider. He might also feel that a discussion will lead to him having to fully disclose his spending habits to his wife. He may perceive that as having to give up a certain amount of control. If he is not willing to discuss the situation with his wife, he may be operating from a mounting number of destructive, misguided perceptions. Proverbs 16:18 (KJV) says that Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

A Wise Wife realizes that this unpleasant conversation has GOT to take place; however she also has to exercise wisdom when approaching her husband. No one wants to feel they are under attack in their own home. It is better to dwell in the corner of a housetop than with a brawling woman in a wide house. Proverbs 25:24 (KJV)

Timing and follow up are key factors. You may not want to start a conversation about the bills while your husband is watching a football game. You also might want to ask God to restrain you from pouncing on him if you've just overheard him on the phone negotiating a payment extension of a delinquent bill that you weren't aware even exisited.

If you don't already know the best time and setting to discuss delicate subjects with your hubby, try asking him. I often have to make an appointment with Rick to discuss subjects that I know he'd rather not talk about at all.

Once you've agreed upon a time and setting to talk about your finances, [or any other difficult topic] follow up by confirming with hubby that you're still on for the date and time you agreed upon. "I understood you correctly when you said we'd talk about our finances Thursday night after dinner, right honey?"

Know your husband's hot buttons. Right, wrong or indifferent, if you've been married more than a day, you already know that certain words set your husband off! Avoid them, particularly accusatory words, name calling (and for God's sake don't play the dozens). Remember, your spouse is not your enemy.

Be ready to offer a solution. Your husband is the head of your household and HE is the one God holds responsible for your family. You can't shove your suggestion down his throat - even if it is the best possible solution to your dilemma. You can, however gently and prayerfully coach him toward seeing things your way.

Acknowledge your own errors. There is nothing more disarming to someone who has positioned themselves for a fight than for you to simply admit your own contribution to a bad situation. Years ago when my daughter LaKeisha was a pre-teen, I had my ammunition locked and loaded and was about to let her have it about something she'd done (or maybe didn't do). I charged her with the offense and she simply said to me "you're right." That let all the air out of my balloon. I was so outdone I can't even remember how the conversation ended, but I do remember that I respected her for owning up to her error rather than being defensive and making excuses.

Over the years I learned to incorporate that simple principle when communicating with my husband. I think it sometimes blows his mind when instead of, as he puts it, getting with him, I tell him he's right. Bear in mind I only do this when I actually have made the error and he is right. I am not an advocate of patronization and manipulation. One trait of a Wise Wife is genuine humility.

Don't be afraid to apologize. Only a fool believes she never makes a mistake so when you know you've blown it, take the high road. Say you're sorry and move on. If you're not already in the habit of admitting you're wrong, it might sound like someone else's words are coming out of your mouth. Keep doing it though, it's very freeing and rewarding. Your hubby might gloat initially, but when he sees that you're committed to admitting your mistakes and apologizing for them, he will [most likely] follow your example in time.

Make him feel comfortable about talking to you. Sometimes men don't want to discuss "sticky situations" with their wives because some women have a tendency to nag and belittle them. Men are not much for talking anyway so you certainly don't want to give him an excuse for not talking to you. As often as possible, appeal to your husband's ego during the conversation. Interject TRUE statements like, that's a good idea, that might work or I never thought about doing it that way.

However when you disagree with what he is saying, let him know but do it respectfully and try to remain calm. If you see that the conversation is deteriorating - end it. "Ok, I see that we're both getting upset and I don't want us to argue. Let's table this for now."

That's when you HUSH - no matter what he says from that point on. Nobody can argue by themselves. My grandmother once told me that when she was growing up, (circa 1915-30) the married women would fill their mouths with water in order to keep from talking back to their husbands. Of course I don't recommend anything that drastic, but a reasonable amount of prudence should be exercised in order to keep the peace when it's obvious that an argument is brewing.

Be ready and willing to forgive. This may take a LOT of prayer. If you're husband spent the rent money on something frivolous like a sound system, you might not be able to shrug it off but it's necessary. We're in it to when it - marriage that is. Also, you never know when you'll be the one in the hot seat. You'll want your husband to be "lenient" with you. Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy. Matthew 5:7

Finally, never underestimate the power of feminine influence! (wink)

Split Second Bible Lesson:

Feminine influence has endured the ages. Read about Ruth and Queen Esther in contrast with Delilah, Salome...oh and Eve

Fiction Friday - Featured Author, Sherri Lewis

Ok Wise Wives, after the barbecues, the fireworks and all of the July 4th festivities, wind down by pampering yourself. Light a scented candle, take a luxurious bath or shower, message your skin with something than smells YUMMY, then put on your most COMFORTABLE lounging outfit. Afterward, pour yourself a cup of your finest tea, curl up in your favorite chair...then relax with a good novel.


Vee's picks of the week...

My Bath and Body Products: Almond Cookie Shower Gel and Almond Cookie Shea Souffle' by Carol's Daughter
My Read of the Week: My Soul Cries Out, by Sherri Lewis
My Tea: Egyptian Chamomile with raw sugar and a hint of cinnamon
My Candle: Moonlit Walk & Wandering Stream



Enjoy!






















Learn more about Sherri...http://sherrilewis.com/














My Soul Cries Out Excerpt...

1
The worst day of my life was the day I caught my husband cheating on me.
You know those movies where the wife forgets some important papers for work and comes home in the middle of the day to get them, only to find her husband in bed with her best friend?
I should have been so lucky.
I opened the fridge to get a bite to eat before going back to the office. That’s when I heard it.
The bumping.
Not a regular foot-shuffling bumping like someone walking around. This bumping had a rhythm to it. A beat.
I stepped into the dining room and stared at the ceiling. The noise came from the master bedroom, directly overhead. Women’s intuition rose from my belly to form a lump in my chest that ascended to my throat. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
I tried to reason away the knowing in my head. My husband, Kevin, usually spent the one Saturday a month I worked playing basketball or writing music. Yeah, that was it. He was pounding out the beat to a new song with his size 13 feet.
In the bedroom. Instead of his studio down the hall. Where he usually wrote music.
I tipped toward the steps, hardly able to breathe. Movie clips of guilty husbands and shocked wives flashed through my mind. Which one of my friends would it be? Or I bet it was Janine, the cutesy little soprano who sang all the leads in the church choir. During every rehearsal, she batted her eyelashes at Kevin and always needed him to stay after to help her get her solo right. I knew she was a skank ho.
I dragged my feet up the steps, fighting to lift them as I got closer to the top. I wasn’t sure of the protocol for such a situation. Did I throw the door open and cry, “Aha, I caught you!” Did I knock on the door and wait for them to get dressed and come out and admit their crime?
Nothing in my life could have ever prepared me for what I saw when I swung the door open and sang out, “Honey, I’m home.”
Imagine my surprise when I realized that the she I thought she would be was actually… a he.
I had never fainted before – but then again, I had never caught my husband of two years cheating with the guy who was supposed to be his closest “friend.” They were close all right. Closer than two men should ever be.
When I opened my eyes, they were both scrambling to pull on some clothes – eyes wide, mouths hanging open. I took a deep breath, made sure I didn’t have any life threatening injuries, jumped up and went to swinging.
“Wait, let me explain!” Kevin held up his arms to ward off my blows.
“Explain? What could you possibly explain? I’ve seen enough to know there’s no explanation you could possibly come up with that could begin to explain what I just saw.”
I searched the room for something to swing. Why hurt my hands? I threw books, hangers, a lamp – one of those big floor ones – anything I could get my hands on. I caught Kevin right above the eye with my alarm clock. I felt triumphant when blood trickled down his cheek.
“And you, Trey! You smile in my face, eat dinner at my house, talk about how happy you are for us and how happy I make Kevin, but all the while you were scheming on how to steal my man.”
“It wasn’t like that, Monica, I promise. I –”
“Wasn’t like that?” I threw one of my high heel shoes, aiming for his eyeball. “Obviously it was, Trey.”
I stomped out of the room and disappeared down the steps. They probably thought I had gotten tired or come to my senses. I wasn’t anywhere near coming to my senses. I just remembered Kevin’s golf clubs in the front closet.
When I came back, the look in Kevin’s eyes said he regretted the day he ever became obsessed with being the next Tiger Woods. Trey screamed like a girl and ran out of the room when he saw the driving iron in my hand.
I made a wild swing at Kevin and hit the wall instead. Paint and drywall crumbled to the floor. While I was prying the club out of the wall, Kevin grabbed my arm and wrestled me to the floor. “Monica, calm down. Please, calm down and let’s talk about this like rational adults.”
“Calm down? Rational adults?” I unleashed a spray of curse words – strung them together like a pro. Kevin’s eyes widened. He had never heard me curse before. By the time he met me, I’d gotten delivered of the cussing demon I picked up my freshman year of college.
I twisted a hand free and slapped his face. Hard. Twice. He grabbed my hand again and tried to pin me down. He was forceful enough to stop my assault against him, but gentle enough not to hurt me.
“Monnie, please.” His eyes begged me. Those big, beautiful eyes I had fallen so deeply in love with. Seeing the tears forming in the corners of them took some of the fire out of me. I stopped struggling for a minute.
Kevin looked like he was trying to decide if I was faking him out or if he could trust me enough to loosen his grip. He stared, obviously not knowing what to say. What could he say?
I realized my dream life, my fantasy, had just come undone. I let out a wail. “Oh my Gaaaaaawwwwwddddd…”
“Monnie, I’m sorry. I –”
“You’re sorry all right. You sorry son of a…son of a... You mother-lovin’…” Forget it. It was too hard. I unleashed another spray of foul language, knowing no matter how much I cursed or how many times I hit him, I’d never be able to make him hurt as much as he just made me hurt.
I sure could try, though.
He’d let his guard down, giving me perfect space and time to kick him in the groin. When he fell, I jumped up and kicked him in the side with all the force my leg could muster. I didn’t know such violence lived in me. I had to make myself calm down before I really hurt him. Even though he deserved it.
I paced around the bedroom. “Help me, Jesus. Help me not to kill him. Help me not to go down to the kitchen and get a knife and gut him. OhLawdJesus, help me. I want to take this golf club and beat him in the head ‘til his brains drip out his ears. Jesus, keep me. I need you, Lord, otherwise I’m gonna …” My eyes darted around the room looking for other things I could murder my husband with.
Kevin stood up, holding his side, sheer terror in his eyes. He had only seen me this mad once before – the last time my mother caught my dad with one of his many women.
“Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus Jesus…” I called His name like I was on the tarrying bench, trying to get filled with the Holy Ghost. When Kevin heard me praying in tongues, he scrambled toward the door.
After I heard the front door slam, I screamed from somewhere deeper than I knew my soul went. What had just happened? How long had it been happening?
I started pacing again. I walked up and down the steps, into the kitchen, into the den, into Kevin’s music studio, back up the steps, into our bedroom, into the guest room, into my exercise room I never used. Every time I tried to stop and sit, this wave of anger-bewilderment-shock-sadness-confusion-fear-insanity would come over me, and I’d have to walk again.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, cursing, and praying, I got tired. The initial adrenaline rush wore off and I remembered how out of shape I was. I looked at my watch. My half-hour lunch break was over and I was due back at work. I caught my breath and picked up the phone.
“Greater Washington Family Medicine, how may I help you?”
“Anthony, this is Monica. I need to talk to Dr. Stewart. Is she in with a patient?” I tried to keep my voice from doing that shaky thing it did when I cried.
“What’s wrong wit’ you, girl?”
“Not now, Anthony, just get her for me. Please.” I hoped the “please” would soften my snippiness. I wasn’t in the mood for Anthony to catch an attitude.
“Let me check. Hold on a sec’.”
I waited for a moment, trying to think of a way to explain why I wasn’t coming back to work. My brain was too fuzzy to come up with a good lie.
“This is Dr. Stewart.”
“Hey, it’s Monica. An emergency came up. I won’t be able to make it back this afternoon.”
“Oh dear, I hope everything is okay. Let me know if you need anything. See you Monday?”
“Oh yes, of course. Everything will be fine by then,” I lied.
I hung up the phone and went straight for the freezer to grab a pint of Tom & Larry’s ice cream. Chocolate Walnut Brownie Crunch. My favorite. I plunked down in the middle of the family room floor and stared at the walls, covered with pictures chronicling the last six years of my relationship with Kevin.
Tears fell as I looked at the beautiful black and white engagement picture of us staring into each other’s eyes. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. Kevin was every woman’s dream. He was the one man I knew who wasn’t afraid to share his feelings. He was my best friend. Closer than any of my girlfriends. I could tell him anything and he could tell me anything.
Or so I thought.
How could he have deceived me? This wasn’t something he just tried out. He’d known Trey since childhood. Trey Hunter showed up at our door six months ago, after not having seen Kevin in years. Kevin introduced him as his high school friend. I guess high school sweetheart was more like it.
I should’ve known something when Trey first appeared. Trey was more effeminate than me, and I couldn’t think of any of the straight men I knew who were close friends with gay men. But something should have alerted me long before that. I racked my brain searching for clues I might have ignored.
Kevin and I met not too long after I finished college and started visiting the church he attended. They had the best choir in the city and sang the latest contemporary music.
I joined after visiting a few Sundays. As soon as I finished my new members’ classes, I joined the choir. I had sung in the choir as long as I could remember. Never sang a solo, but I was one of those solid altos any director could count on to keep everyone else on key. Kevin was the minister of music. I was the section leader, so me and Kevin hung out after rehearsals to discuss songs or parts or whatever.
One night, we went out to dinner at IHOP afterwards and talked until two in the morning. From then on, we were inseparable. We went out after every rehearsal and every church service. Sometimes with a big group from the choir, sometimes just us.
The end table held a picture of us and our choir clique at our favorite table at IHOP. Judging from the fatness of my cheeks, my all-black outfit, and the salad instead of pancakes on the table in front of me, I must have been on an upswing of my lifelong weight yo-yo. Kevin had this enamored look on his face and I had this look of total shock like, “he’s really with me?”
I scraped the bottom of the ice cream carton. Where did a whole pint go that quick? Good thing they had a two-for-one sale last week. Or maybe it wasn’t such a good thing. Forget it. This was no time to be worried about my weight. I needed all the comfort Tom & Larry could offer right now.
I turned to stare at our wedding picture hanging over the fireplace mantle. Kevin was dashing in his tux. I looked at his mocha chocolate skin, tall muscular body, thick, curly hair, and heartbreaking smile.
Sistahs was hatin’ on me that day.
I had crash dieted to get into my size 12 wedding dress and looked good, if I do say so myself. My classy Halle Berry haircut complimented my heart-shaped face. The dress was perfect for my hourglass shape. That was one thing I had going for me. Even at my largest, I was still well proportioned, and always had a waistline.
I knew some of my fellow choir sistahs were jealous and I felt good to be the one that caught the mysterious, elusive Kevin Day. He was charismatic as the minister of music – able to lead the whole church into the highest realms of praise and worship. But he seemed nervous when all the women fawned over him and vied for his attention.
That shoulda let me know something wasn’t straight.
But then again, what would I know? Kevin was my first and only real love. The only man I ever had a serious relationship with, the only one I’d ever been intimate with. And now…
Help me understand this, God. Kevin is…gay?
Something in me snapped. I picked up a book and crashed it into the picture. I don’t know what broke it, the book or the high-pitched scream I let out as I threw it.
I began picking up pictures of me and Kevin from all over the den. The one from our honeymoon in Negril, I threw against the wall. I sent the last year’s Christmas picture hurling into our engagement picture hanging over the stairs. One by one, I destroyed the evidence of what I thought was our wonderful, God-ordained life together.
As I smashed each picture, I felt my heart shattering with the glass. My throat was raw from screaming. I couldn’t stop though. I had to destroy everything that told the lie I now knew my marriage was.
My mind was spinning. Instinctively, I picked up the phone to call my best friend, Trina. Right after the speed dial finished, I hung up. What would I tell her? “Hey, girl, guess what? I just caught my husband with another man?” Too embarrassing.
I started pacing again. “Oh my God. Did that really just happen?” No matter how much I walked, I couldn’t escape it. “Okay, Monnie. Get yourself together.” I made myself stand still and take ten deep breaths.
The phone rang. Without thinking, I answered it. “Hello?”
“Did you just call me?”
“Trina…I…yeah, it was…I dialed by accident.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I tried to clear my throat and sound normal.
“Monica, stop lying. What’s wrong? You sound like you been crying.”
I didn’t say anything, knowing my voice would betray me.
“Monica?”
Why did I answer the phone? I could have played this off to anyone else but Trina.
“Monica, talk to me. What’s going on?”
I choked on the lump in my throat and started crying again.
“I’ll be right there.”
“No! Don’t come over. I’m fine –” Too late. She’d already hung up the phone.
I looked around at the mess. Trina lived only about fifteen minutes away. I knew she’d be speeding to get to me. I grabbed a broom and swept the glass into a pile.
I cut my finger on a long, thin shard. Blood trickled down my arm. “Crap!” I ran to the bathroom before it dripped onto my plush, off-white carpet.
I ran water over my finger until its red tinge ran clear, then wrapped it in toilet paper. That would have to do for now. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy, nose red and my short bob was flying everywhere. I looked like a crazy woman.
The doorbell rang. I splashed my face with cold water, blew my nose and tried to smooth my hair down. The doorbell rang again. “I’m coming, doggone it!”
My feeble attempt at fixing my face was lost on Trina. When I opened the door, she gasped. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”
The look of concern on her face was too much for me. I burst into tears again.
“Monnie, what is it?” Trina led me into the den and sat me down on the couch. She stared at the broken glass, picture frames and picture fragments. “What happened in here? Did you and Kevin get in a fight?”
I nodded, still crying.
She must have noticed the blood soaking through the tissue on my finger. “Oh my God. What did he do to you? Did Kevin hurt you?”
I shook my head, still crying.
“What happened?” Trina got up and walked into the kitchen. I could hear her rummaging through the cabinets and running water. She came back with a wet dishtowel and a glass of water. She unwrapped my finger and wrapped it in the wet cloth and gave me the water to drink. She went to the bathroom and came back with a roll of toilet paper and handed me a wad to wipe my face. She rubbed my back and waited for me to stop crying.
I finally looked up at her. “I…Kevin… I…” I shook my head and took a deep breath. I rolled off some more tissue and blew my nose. I looked at the floor.
“Monnie, this is me. Your girl. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
I had to just spit it out. “I walked in on Kevin and Trey this afternoon.”
“What do you mean?”
“I walked in on them in my bed.”
Trina’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? I walked in on my husband…” I sucked in a deep breath, “…screwing another man.”
Her mouth flew open and her eyes bugged out. “What do you mean?”
“Trina, I can’t say it any clearer than that. Unless you want the graphic version.”
She held up her hand as if to say “no thank you.” She stood up and began pacing the den. Every few seconds, she would turn back to me with her mouth wide open, her eyes asking if I said what she thought I said. Each time she did, I nodded. She’d open her mouth like she was about to say something then close it, then open it again and close it, until finally she put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”
I rolled my eyes. “Should I say it in French?”
“Sorry, but you gotta give me a minute with this one.” She frowned as if she was trying to solve the most difficult Calculus problem. “So you’re telling me Kevin was…he and Trey were…Kevin is…oh, my…”
I started crying again. Her saying it – or not being able to say it – seemed to make it more real.
Trina pulled herself out of her stupor and came over to hug me. “Oh, Monnie, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to–”
“I’m not asking you to fix this, Trina. You don’t have to say anything. Just…help me not to lose it.” I sobbed in her arms. “You coulda never told me Kevin was…I never expected…”
“Shhh, I know. Me either. He doesn’t seem…I mean nothing about him is…” Trina shook her head and grimaced as if an image just registered in her brain. “Oh, boy, this is…”
We both sat there shaking our heads for a few minutes.
She chuckled. “So you kicked his tail, huh?”
Leave it to Trina to make me laugh at a time like this. “Girl, I had to call on the Lord to keep from killing both of them. I lost control.”
“Y’all was tearing up the den?”
“No, the bedroom. I did all this after they left.”
“Umm.” She looked around at the mess again. “Remind me to never piss you off.” We both laughed, then I started to cry.
“Oh, Monnie. I’m sorry, girl.” She held me until I stopped crying. “Come on. Let’s pack you a bag. You’re going with me.”
I looked around room. “What about this?”
“Let him clean it up. That is, if he’s stupid enough to come back.”