Chapter Six
Alex
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On Christmas morning Joshua and I were awakened by Lilah jumping into our bed. She was wearing Winnie the Pooh-footed pajamas, and her hair was standing wildly on top of her head in several puffs.
“Wake up! Wake up! It's Christmas, Daddy.” Lilah landed on top of her father.
“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” Joshua said.
I touched the top of her fuzzy little head. “Merry Christmas, Lilah.”
“Merry Christmas. Now, come on. Let's go.” Lilah grabbed her dad's hand and pulled.
“Okay, okay. We're coming.” Joshua smiled as he slid his feet into his slippers.
Lilah looked at me and smiled. “Come on, Sister Alex.”
My heart fell.
“Sweetie, didn't we have a talk already about you not calling Alex that anymore?” Joshua sighed. “We're married now, so Alex is your new mommy, remember?”
“It's okay, Josh.” I shook my head to indicate my disapproval of him reprimanding her. I could tell by the look on Lilah's face, the title would have to be earned.
“But Grandma said that Alex is not really my mommy,” Lilah said.
Joshua and I looked at each other in horror, and then I squeezed his hand.
“Don't worry about what Grandma said,” Joshua replied.
I hopped out of bed and leaped past both of them. “Let's see what Jesus blessed us with this year.”
I marveled to myself at the way I had decorated the apartment, with fresh holly, a live tree with lights, porcelain ornaments, and stringed popcorn around the tree. Each of the windows had silver lighted angels in them, complete with silver tinsel as well. Yes, I was very pleased with myself.
After I got dressed in a simple green and black pantsuit and we opened the gifts, we played one of Lilah's new video games with her, then gathered one of her new dolls and we went down to the church to serve meals to the homeless.
First, we set up the chairs and folding tables with red and white tablecloths and little fake holly centerpieces. We hung up a huge banner that read “The King is Born” before the men, women, and children started filing in. Some of the people looked like they had been down on their luck for a long time, but others looked like average people who maybe had a bad month or a bad year. Maybe they were recently widowed or unemployed. Maybe their spouses were laid off, or they had an unexpected family emergency that set them back. Maybe they had become ill and had fallen behind in medical bills. Whether they were low on cash or low in spirit, we had to rescue them. Whatever their reasons for being there, they were human beings, and they deserved to be served with as much dignity as possible.
We took so many privileges for granted on a daily basis, living the good life whether we saw it that way or not. We were unequivocally blessed, and therefore, we had a responsibility to pass that blessing on, not just with natural food but with spiritual food as well. Pastor Martin blessed the food, and everyone proceeded to eat a mixture of turkey, stuffing, collard greens, rice with gravy, fried chicken, cranberry sauce, candied yams, baked macaroni and cheese, cabbage, red velvet cake, and peach cobbler. Loose conversations spun off between tables before Pastor Martin came forward with a brief holiday message.
“I'm not going to preach today, but I am going to say what Christmas is not. It's not about jingling bells or snowmen, reindeer or elves,” Pastor Martin said. “It's not even about pretty decorations, parties, or receiving gifts. The meaning is deeper than this. You see, Jesus is our gift, and His gift to us is His love. The very miracle of His birth and life is what we celebrate during this season, not the commercial items we are bombarded with in the media every day. No matter how hard they push us to buy, buy, buy, Jesus is still king and He still sits on the throne. So sing a song about Him today and get into the
real
holiday spirit. Come to Jesus.”
Then the choir sang “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” followed by an altar call.
The church was so packed with volunteers, members, and nonmembers alike that cleanup was not easy. Afterward, I sat down on the cafeteria bench, took off my pumps, and rubbed my sore feet.
“Told you that you should've worn your sneakers,” Joshua whispered in my ear.
“Oh, leave me alone.” I waved him away and laughed.
Later, Joshua, Lilah, and I hopped into the Navigator and headed to the Benning's house for dinner.
While we were riding I wondered what antics of Mother Benning's we would face this time.
There was always something going on with that woman; like nothing I did ever pleased her. It was a mystery to me how Bishop Benning managed to stay married to herâand managed to stay sane at the same time. I sighed and put on a fresh layer of lipstick so I could start out on the right foot.
When we arrived, Mother Benning met us at the door in a charming gold-colored shoulderless dress. I didn't recognize the fabric, but it looked very expensive. Her shoes were gold colored also. Probably Steve Madden I guessed since she'd once declared that he was her favorite brand.
“Merry Christmas, darlings,” she said, hugging Joshua and I at once.
“Merry Christmas, Mother Benning,” I said.
Joshua gave his mother a peck on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mother.”
Then Mother Benning reached down and picked up Lilah. “Come and give your Big Mommy a kiss.”
I hated when she said that. “Big Mommy” stole all the momminess away, and there was none left for me. I smiled and watched the perfect loving interaction between Lilah and her grandmother, secretly hoping that one day I'd have a part in it.
Mother Benning smelled of raspberries, and I wondered if she had been baking a raspberry pie. Looking at her glamorous outfit, it didn't seem likely. She wasn't the domesticated type. In fact, I was pretty sure that Angelina, the cook, had prepared the entire meal.
“Big Mommy. Big Mommy,” Lilah said.
“How is my beautiful granddaughter on this Christmas?” Sister Benning hugged Lilah tightly. Then she led us inside to the formal dining room where she had the table set. A swan-shaped crystal vase full of fresh orchids sat in the center of the table. Huge, original African paintings lined the walls, along with various African artifacts gathered from her many mission trips to the continent. Somehow, I had trouble picturing Mother Benning on any mission but her own. One of the paintings captivated me because the eyes of one of the African warriors were so piercing. It was as if he could see me looking at him. The collection was quite impressive.
Everything else was exquisitely elegant and tasteful; the gold-plated dishes, the selection she played on the grand piano, the vegetable-stuffed honey-roasted turkey, everything except Mother Benning's attitude, which eventually became funky, of course.
Mother Benning tilted her head to the side. “Why, Alex, dear, have you done something different with your hair?”
I immediately felt self-conscious since my hair was only tucked back in a ponytail, and hers hung flawlessly around her shoulders. “No, ma'am, I haven't really done much with it at all, to tell the truth.”
“Oh, I see,” she smirked.
“Joshua, have you given any more thought to taking over Kingdom House and blessing your parents' hearts?”
Joshua had a slight smile on his face. “I'd love to bless your heart, Mom, but no, I haven't changed my mind.”
“Well, I guess you want us both to die then,” she said.
Joshua clapped his hands and laughed. “Come on, Mother. Please stop with the drama.”
“Oh, I'm just getting started,” she smiled.
Eventually, Bishop Benning came downstairs and joined us at the table. He looked frail, barely spoke, and practically stumbled back to his room as soon as he had finished eating.
All in all, it wasn't the worst visit I had with Joshua's parents. However, it was my first Christmas dinner without my sister, and it really began to affect me. When we were children, Christmas was always big in our house, even when we didn't have many material things. Mama always made us a big dinner with whatever she had, and it wasn't always a traditional Christmas dinner either. It didn't matter to Taylor and me as long as we were all together. Mama usually cranked up the radio really loud as the stations played all the Christmas favorites. If she were in a really good mood she would even play “Silent Night” on her guitar while Taylor and I gathered around to sing. Yes, Mama played the guitar and used to be in a band when she was younger. That explained some of her wild side.
She was very talented. Sometimes Aunt Dorothy would come over with our cousins Nehemiah and Jeremiah. They were terrors, but we still had fun playing together. Even one Christmas when our power was off, we went out to eat at McDonald's, celebrated with candles, and went to bed early. Mama never complained about anything during Christmastime. Instead, she'd always say, “It's not about us. It's about Jesus.” Then she would find someone who was in a worse position than she was in and help them. Even during her roughest times, that was what Mama did, helped people. I missed her during this time of year most of all.
Taylor was having dinner with Keith, Aunt Dorothy, and Dad. I missed them all, but I was grateful to be having dinner with my new family.
The evening was long and not the most festive, but we survived it and came out shining.
The very next day, unfortunately, we received a frantic call from Joshua's mother. She was crying and begging us to get to the hospital fast because Joshua's father was having heart pains and was having trouble breathing. She feared that he was having a heart attack and they were on their way to the hospital in an ambulance.
“Oh, Lord, please let Bishop Benning live,” I whispered before grabbing my purse and heading out behind Joshua. One quick stop to drop off Lilah at Mrs. Johnson's and we were on the road.
When Mother Benning called to announce that her husband had been rushed to the emergency room, Joshua and I immediately began to pray. We knew his condition was already fragile and that we would need divine healing power to get us through this ordeal.
As we arrived at the hospital, we ran into Pastor Martin in the lobby.
“Hello, Pastor Martin,” Joshua and I said in unison as if it were planned.
“Hello, Josh. Alex.” Pastor Martin hugged us both with one of those quick church hugs, the kind where none of your body parts touched, except, of course, arms touching back. “Your mother called me, and I came right over. I just left your father's side. Good thing I was already in the area.”
“Yes, it's a good thing,” Joshua said. “We've been praying the whole way over here.”
Pastor Martin's eyes narrowed. “I know what you mean. Your father is a good man and Satan had better know we're not going to give him up that easily.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Pastor.”
“Yes, thanks.” Joshua tried to hide it, but he looked worried.
“I'll be going now because I've got another emergency on the other side of the city, but I'll be back tomorrow.” Pastor Martin put on his hat and headed out the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Joshua and I said, again in unison.
We walked over to the front desk where a tall Jamaican lady gave us directions to the ICU. We took the elevator upstairs in silence. The fluorescent lighting illuminated the plain white walls, as well as carefully placed instructional signs. I didn't like hospitals at all, not since Mom died in one. It was too quiet, and way too gloomy.
As soon as we turned the corner, Mother Benning walked over to us. “Joshua. Alex.”
“Hi, Mother,” Joshua said.
“Hello, Mother Benning.” I reached out to hug her, but she walked right past me.
Mother Benning threw her arms around Joshua. “Thankfully, it was only a false alarm and not a heart attack, but they're going to keep him overnight. His doctor wants to watch him closely because he's so weak.”
Mother Benning led us to his room. After spending a few minutes with Brother Benning, a doctor came in and asked us to leave the room so he could be examined. Since his vital signs were better, we were allowed back in but not before the doctor spoke to us briefly about his condition. The doctor explained that the prostate was a walnut-sized structure that made up the man's reproductive system and the problem was that it was wrapped around the urethra, which carries urine out of the body. It was amazing to me that one body part out of order could cause so much trouble. It was just like Taylor always said, “You gotta start taking better care of yourself.”
I remembered Mama and how cancer ate up her body. She used to call out for Taylor and me all the time during her last days. All she wanted before she died was to know that Taylor would soon give her life to the Lord and get back in church. That was all she ever asked about and all Taylor did was say, “Yes, Mama.” Then she'd slip away to go to some party or to hang out with some loser while our mother's life ebbed away. I wanted to strangle her back then. I wanted to hurt her for her selfishness until one day while I was sitting by Mama's bedside, Mama helped me to realize that Taylor was hurting just as much as I was.