Once Upon a Sunday
Chapter Four
I held the dead phone in my hand, shaking with anger. Kevin didn’t know it, but today was not the day to mess with me. I could be the vengeful, angry black woman and cut up the two suits he still had hanging in my bedroom closet, but I’m not like that. His precious weight collection, I could have sold and made a pretty penny off of it, but I chose not to stoop to his level. Nevertheless, when he hung the phone up on me after I found out that he’d gotten another woman pregnant while we were still together, that alone produced another realm of possibilities.
It is possible that his football memorabilia may come up missing. It is possible that I could take full custody of Sean instead of joint care due to his blatant infidelity. It is possible that the secret I swore I’d never tell another living soul that could get him kicked out of the National Guards may become public. I was holding that threat as a last resort, but since he has another child on the way that last resort may become a right now resort.
With the phone still in my hand, it began to ring again. I stared down and saw Farrah’s name scroll across the screen. Somehow, just seeing her number took my anger down a few notches. At work when she told me to call her, I knew that she would phone if I hadn’t.
After a deep exhale to clear the lingering animosity that tried to consume me, I answered her call.
“Hey girl, how are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m doing …” It was difficult to shake off the malice that I had mounting against that man.
“Oh. So, you’re okay?”
“I’m okay, Farrah. Just got some things on my mind, you know.”
It was awkward for her, I’m sure. What else can you say to a friend who was fired right in front of you? She saw the humiliation on my face as I took the walk of shame from my desk to the exit. Hers was the one friendly face in the crowd among those who smirked as I carried my belongings in that white box to the door.
“Are you sure? I know how much you’ve been through over the past few months.”
“You don’t know half, Farrah.” Although I was desperately trying to keep my anger at bay, my mind kept repeating the words that Kevin had shouted at me. “So, if you’re calling to pray or to try and encourage me, just save it,” I unintentionally snapped at her.
“What?”
I released a defeated sigh, and then apologized, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have so much more going on than you know.”
“Did you want to talk about it?” She forgave easily.
“What is talking going to do? There’s nothing you can say that can possibly make my situation any better. I’m sorry for snapping at you, but I’ve heard people say pray about this and pray about that all my life while they go through hell. They look like wind-up robots.”
“Is that what you think of me?” she asked. “Because I am not a wind-up robot just because I believe in Jesus.”
I could hear the irritation in her voice. I must’ve struck a nerve because it was hard to get Farrah riled up. She never said a bad word about anyone, that I’ve heard, and she’s always been nice to me. But what she does not understand is that I know the salvation spiel. I’ve heard it from my mother, my father, my siblings, a few cousins, aunts, and uncles. So, there isn’t much she can tell me because I grew up in the church. Heck, I used to be a junior usher.
“Farrah, I’m not trying to insult you or your beliefs. I’m just saying that I don’t want to talk about Jesus right now. I have too much hell going on in my life to be consoled by Someone who obviously cares nothing about me.”
“So, you do believe that He exists?” she asked with a glimmer of hope in her voice.
“I never said that I didn’t. History is history. It is a historical fact that He existed.”
“Exists,” she corrected me.
“It is also a historical fact that He died on a cross,” I rebutted.
Farrah released a quiet sigh. She had to come harder at me than just telling me to blindly believe when I know my history. I know what happened all those years ago. I used to sit on my daddy’s lap while he read Bible stories to me as a child. And in my naivety, I actually believed it back then. But then I started to travel and meet new people in other countries and soon realized that my country-bumpkin family, no disrespect intended, had blinders on. It was through my travels and revelations that I had decided to take mine off.
“Yes, He did die on a cross, but—”
“But He rose again, yada, yada, yada. I’ve heard all of this before, Farrah,” I tried to explain to her. “Listen, I don’t knock you for what you believe, so please, don’t judge me. Isn’t that what your Bible says, not to judge?”
Farrah’s silence spoke volumes. In my heart, I know she was just trying to comfort me as best she knew how, but nothing she could say right now would make me feel any better. I appreciated her, especially since she was the only co-worker who respected me as a human being, aside from my sister-in-law, Charlotte, but now was not the time for that talk.
“Is this why you called me, Farrah? To talk about how great God is when my life is falling apart?” I released a telling grunt. “I-I don’t know if I’m coming or going these days. If I didn’t have Sean right now, I just don’t know.”
“And who do you think gave you Sean?”
I paused and reflected on her statement. There was no winning with this woman. Everything in her life revolved around a God she couldn’t even see.
“Melinda, let’s do lunch or something tomorrow? Maybe even brunch on Sunday? We could go to church and—”
“Uh, no. My mother already beat you to the punch,” I said in a sarcastic tone, “and I’m even having second thoughts about going to church with her.” Although my whole situation was literally sucking the life out of me, I didn’t see how going to church was going to solve anything. “Look, I know you mean well and you’re just trying to look out for me, but I’m good.” My eyes shifted to the suits Kevin still had in the back of the closet. “I just have to do some spring cleaning. It’s about time I cleared some clutter out of my life.”
“Well, cleaning up is good. Sometimes just rearranging and organizing things can be therapeutic.”
“Yeah, maybe you need to tell your hoarding mother that.” I pinned my mouth shut as soon as the words escaped. Even with the mess in my life, I still had no right to say that, knowing how hard she had been trying to help her mentally-ill mother.
“Mel, that was just low. I would never—never say something like that to you.”
Knowing how much I had tested her Christianity, I started to feel bad. Farrah was right. She would never say anything like that to me, regardless of how angry she was. With losing my job, finding out that Kevin was having another child, and my mom coming at me out of left field, I was about to lose the one friend who honestly meant me no harm.
Just as I was about to apologize to her, there was a loud scream in my house.
“What was that?” Farrah asked.
I dropped the phone and ran out of my room. When I saw that Sean’s bed was empty, I scrambled into the kitchen where I heard him whimpering. He looked up at me with tear-stained cheeks and soaked clothing. My eyes shifted from his chest to the plastic cup that was turned over onto the floor.
“Oh my God!” I instinctively hollered. “What did you do?”
“Mommy …” He was almost breathless with his hand pressed against his chest. “It burns!” Sean burst into tears.
Without another thought, I rushed him to the bathroom and stripped his bleach soaked night clothes off of him. I hurriedly rubbed liquid soap all over his body.
“Did you drink it?” I forced his mouth open, not even knowing what to look for. “Did you drink from the cup, baby?” I shook his shoulders as the water from the bathroom shower poured over him.
“I thought it was water,” he cried.
“Oh my God!” I screamed again and yanked Sean from the bath tub.
My attention was only diverted once by the ringing
house phone. I grabbed my cell from the floor where I had dropped it and saw that Farrah was still on the phone. Before I even placed it to my ear, I heard her yelling my name.
“I have to call 9-1-1!” I squeezed my baby closer with a large towel wrapped around his body.
“What happened?” she questioned in a panicked voice.
“It’s Sean, I have to go!” With heavy pants, I hung up on her and frantically called for an ambulance.