7. Zurmani
That Sunday
My mood has been off the past few days because I haven't been to the hospital in an attempt to keep myself from getting attached to the baby. The problem with my logic is that it's too late because instead of being at the hospital, I have been crying from not succumbing to what my heart has been needing. It's crazy for me to let myself get attached, knowing the baby doesn't belong to me. Maybe volunteering as a coping mechanism for overcoming my loss wasn't the best idea. Or I should have chosen another wing of the hospital to spend my time in rather than surrounding myself with babies. Yet, something magnetic and unexplainable had driven me to that particular baby. He wasn't the only child in the NICU needing attention and love, yet he's the one my heart leaped over from day one.
Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Tears slide from the corners of my eyes, and my body shakes from the release of another outpouring of heaviness I'm feeling. The small voice whispers the scripture I have heard many times while growing up, causing my chest to tighten. The urge to get up, get ready, and go to church hits me suddenly, causing me to rise up in bed with my back resting against the headboard.
"How can I go to church? I don't have one?—"
Ring. Ring. Ring.
My eyes shift to the ringing phone resting in the holder on my nightstand, and my brows furrow. My teeth sink into my bottom lip while the phone continues ringing before stopping, allowing me to release the air gathering in my lungs. The moment is short-lived when the phone starts ringing again, causing me to pick it up and answer hesitantly.
"H-h-hello."
"Good morning, Nae Boogie. Rise and shine because this is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it," Zion cheerfully voices.
"Good morning, Zion."
"Aye, I want you to come with me to church today. My boy invited me to check out his church because he knows I'm looking for a new place of worship."
My heart rate increased because Zion's call was eerie with me just analyzing this topic. Wrinkles dance across my forehead, and I look up to my ceiling, my lips twisting slightly.
"Are you still there, Zurmani?" Zion asks.
Zion calling me by my full name has me frowning because he never calls me anything but Nae Boogie unless things are serious.
"I'm here. Why do you need me to come if your friend invited you?"
"Back up. Besides, I'm not the only one who needs to return to church for spiritual covering. You and I need to have some sure foundation, sis. I've been watching the FB live services. This pastor is the truth. If God leads me, I'll be joining today, and I would love to have you in the building when I do," Zion says, bringing an instant smile to my lips.
Zion is serious about his walk with God, and I love it because he gives me a reason to seek God more for myself. Neither of us felt a connection to our parents' church, so branching out on our own was inevitable. However, I haven't been active in finding another church to plant my feet with, so I love that Zion has continued to be diligent in his efforts.
"Okay. I'll come. Are you gonna pick me up?"
"Yep. Then the three of us will go out to dinner. I want you to meet my boy, anyway. He could be a good look for you."
My smile falls because being set up with one of Zion's friends doesn't sound like something I'm interested in. I would rather a man pursue me without influence, although knowing the friend is a God-fearing man isn't the worst I could do.
Tuh, you already got a man who appears to believe in God, so...
The thought instantly invades my thoughts, causing Jawaan's image to surface, and my heart rate increases for a different reason.
"I'll be there at ten-fifty so we can make the eleven-thirty service because I'm not about to push you to get ready in time for the one that starts at nine," Zion informs.
"Whew, thank you. I'll need time to tame my hair, find something to wear, shower, and do all the other things necessary to be the pretty diva I am."
"Oh trust, I know how slow you are, Nae Boogie. I'll see you soon."
Laughing, I return the phone to its previous spot and throw the covers off my body, making no attempt to leave my bed.
"I see you took the decision from me, huh? Touché, God."
"Good morning, everyone. Today's scripture will be coming from Matthew 11:30, which reads: For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. This morning, I want you all to meditate on the burdens that you need God to make light. Amen. At this time, the praise and worship team will come to minister. Join in with them by clapping your hands and singing along," the woman wearing a yellow dress and matching hat says while smiling before handing the microphone to a man beside her.
My mind swirls while trying to process what God is trying to say to me after heaving the final verse from the scripture He had whispered to me this morning.
"Praise the Lord, church. I said praise the Lord, church," the man holding the microphone boisterously says before the organist begins playing.
My eyes leave the front of the church, shifting to Zion when he stands clapping and the praise team starts singing. Zion is smiling and seemingly in his element, causing a light feeling to spread through me. After leaving Zion, my eyes roam around the church, noting various people either standing or clapping with the people singing. My head nods when a woman's voice echoes around the room, causing me to return to the front.
"Ohh, Jesus. Call him in the morning. Call him in the noonday. Call him in the midnight hour. Jesus. Jesus," the woman sings with authority, causing me to stand and clap along.
The song is one I'm familiar with since my mom sang it often, which is why Zion and I look at each other singing along.
"Heart fixer... Jesus. Waymaker... Jesus. Help me, call him. If you... know Him. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus," I sing, smiling at Zion, who recites the words with me.
Another body bumping into mine has me looking to my right to see Zion's friend, Herschel, moving from side to side with his head swaying like a bobblehead. The two of us only exchanged pleasantries since I didn't enter the sanctuary until the service started following the morning prayer. I told Zion I had to check my makeup when we arrived and hid in the bathroom on the couch, killing time. My nerves were all over the place, and I needed time to get myself together. Delaying my arrival meant I had to sit between Zion and Herschel, who smiled like a Cheshire cat before connecting our hands.
I'm unsure if he was nervous to meet, but his sweaty palms had me quickly disconnecting our hands. As far as appearances go, Herschel isn't a bad-looking guy, but there wasn't an ounce of chemistry between us. Dinner with him and Zion will be interesting, making me regret not driving myself to church.
"Oh, how precious. Oh, how precious. Precious is His nameee," the praise team croons, bringing the song to a close, and the congregation claps loudly.
"I will bless the Lord at all times. His praise shall continually... continually be in my mouth," the lead ad-libs, causing the church to go up in high praise.
My lips upturn when the organist plays the usual praise tempo, and various members dance like churchgoers do when the Holy Spirit is moving.
Yeah, I miss this.
"Y'all better praise Him," I praise, clapping and tapping my feet.
Sometime Later
Can this man be any less undesirable? Sheesh.
"I'm serious. I take my walk with God seriously," Herschel insists.
Herschel and I are having dinner because Zion suddenly forgot some work project due tomorrow and had to get home. After a silent conversation between him and me, I got into Herschel's clown car and headed to this restaurant. If Herschel driving a small vehicle that he struggled to enter and exit was bad enough, this conversation has me ready to bolt from the table.
"So, you think your future wife will agree to you whispering scriptures while the two of you have sex?" My forehead wrinkles, and my brows furrow while I stare at Herschel, wondering which season of Jumanji I'm sitting through.
"Mhm. Have you ever read Song of Solomon? It was written for mating, and my wife will have to accept God's will for our lives."
"Oh, really. Give me an example."
Like a stubborn child whose parent repeatedly tells them the iron is hot and not to touch it, I probe Herschel for more despite the steam from the proverbial iron.
"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: For thy love is better than wine. Because of the savor of thy good ointments. Thy name is?—"
Is this man for real?
My eyes balloon, my mouth opens and closes like a blowfish, and I fight the urge to laugh in Herschel's face. Between the twinkles in his eyes and the timbre of his voice, I'm seconds from releasing the giggles, begging to be let loose.
"Therefore, do the virgins love thee?—"
Laughter shoots from my mouth causing Herschel to stop speaking while his forehead wrinkles and a frown forms.
"I-I-I'm sorry," I say, wiping my eyes from the water falling rapidly.
"What's so fu?—"
"There is a balm in Gilead. There is a balm in Gilead," a deep, husky, and familiar tenor starts singing, instantly cutting off my laughter.
"Ja-Jawaan," I utter in a silky and breathy tone taking in the man my conscience has been attempting to keep on a constant loop in my mind.
Jawaan has my body heating like an inferno while my eyes rake over his body shamelessly. Jawaan is wearing a white shirt, gray striped pants, and white tennis shoes. His beard appears freshly cut, and his dreads are in a ball on top of his head with his sides tapered, not to mention the glow coming from his cinnamon brown skin that has me wondering what his skincare routine is.
"There... there... is... is... a balm in Gilead," Jawaan continues singing, causing my pussy to purr and thump like Jawaan is serenading her.
"Excuse me, but you're interrupting our meal," Herschel interjects while looking at Jawaan, who pulls out the empty seat next to me before sitting.
"You've been so engrossed in trying to impress Tigress that you haven't noticed me approaching. No disrespect to the Big Homie or anything, but most women don't get wet from quoting scripture. Let me offer some free game so you can get it right with the next woman because this one is destined for another," Jawaan says to Herschel before his golden orbs connect with mine, causing a shiver to invade my body. "A good serenade that causes a woman's honey to coat her slit begins with organic, soul-stirring, and electrifying connections."
An uncontrollable moan escapes my lips, catching me off guard and causing me to shift in my seat from the way Jawaan's words glide over me. The seat of my panties is moist, and my mouth is drying by the minute, causing my heart to beat erratically.
Damn!
"Mhm," Jawaan says before breaking our eye contact and returning to a silent Herschel. "I've let the hostess know to make your meal to go. I'll see to it that Ms. Zurmani gets home. You can go now."
Hold on. Did he ju ? —
"Excuse me," Herschel objects, frowning deeply.
"No need. With this being the Lord's day and all, I would hate to be the reason your next meal comes by way of the dieticians at Shadow Stew Memorial," Jawaan says.
"Wow. I ain't nev?—"
"Oh, I know. You never had a clue how to handle a woman like this, which is what pisses me off more than anything else. By the way, if you're gonna recite scripture to a potential love interest, next time go with Song of Solomon 8:6," Jawaan advises while staring intently at me.
The scraping, huffing, and murmurs tell me Herschel is leaving the table, but my eyes are on Jawaan.
"This is the second time I've stumbled on you breaking bread with someone who wasn't me. Only this time, your blank eyes begged me to intervene even while I was standing near the entrance."
I'm unable to deny or disagree with Jawaan's statement because boredom had been a heavy emotion during my entire encounter with Herschel. I'm also not surprised that Jawaan saw me because Herschel insisted that the hostess sit us at a table near the front. It was weird, and I felt like I was on display while sitting at one of the tables in the center. Jawaan's frown makes me feel like I did something wrong, causing me to attempt to fix the problem I can't quite pinpoint.
"I'm sorry," I quietly release.
"No need. Why do you think I sang that particular song? God dropped it in my spirit, leading me to rescue you. I just hope this is the last time. What's good here?" Jawaan asks, picking up the menu on the plate before him.
It takes my brain a minute to register and catch up with Jawaan's words, causing me to sit still while processing the last five minutes. Jawaan isn't a stranger, so breaking bread with him won't be uncomfortable, especially since I no longer have to deal with the likes of Herschel.
"Oh, hello. What can I get for you?" the server walks up with wide eyes, looking back and forth between Jawaan and me.
"I'll have whatever my lady is having. I had to pull down on her and the wannabe attempting to convince her he's God's best. Since God doesn't play about me, I had to let him and her know what it is," Jawaan explains, smirking.
"All right," the server says, showing all thirty-two teeth.
Lady, please don't encourage him any further than he is.