Epilogue
Two months later…
The last sixty days have been far more fulfilling than I could have ever imagined. Some days, I think I’m in a dream because it still hasn’t fully hit me that I’m somebody’s wife. Who knew that cussing a man out after having a flat tire in a thunderstorm would lead me to where I am now. Despite being in previous relationships, I have never lived with a man, so it took some getting used to. While waking up in Kayshon’s arms has been the missing link in my existence, the rest of our cohabitation has taken some time to adjust.
For instance, I constantly have to remind Kayshon to put the toilet seat down. I’m not sure if he was auditioning during the times we spent the night at each other’s place pre-marriage, but it’s an area of contention for us. One thing that I have also had to adjust to is Kayshon’s need to put sugar in his grits. Personally, it’s the most disgusting habit out of all of them I’ve encountered thus far. According to Mycah, there are far worse things to complain about, about my husband, but she’s a sweet grit eating heffa, so her opinion is biased.
What hasn’t been difficult is watching Kayshon put in the effort to progress through his past. Knowing he’s just as committed to his therapy sessions as he is to making our marriage work is a turn-on for me. Although it took me a little while to settle the circumstances of Kayshon’s life in my mind, I fully support him.
“I can’t believe you threw away the grits I made for you. How are you gonna eat everything I made but that?” Kayshon asks, snapping me out of my thoughts as my eyes peer into him.
A quickening heartbeat colliding with the thickness increasing in my throat is my response to the light filling Kayshon’s eyes.
“I appreciate you cooking for me, but there will never come a day where we agree on anything but cheese, butter, salt, and pepper mingling with my grits.”
“Man, you're tripping and don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I say laughing as he joins in while shaking his head.
“All right. Let’s get out of here so we’re not late.”
Out of the blue last night, Kayshon said he wanted us to go to Papa Ren’s church today. While attending church is never a problem for me and also something I secretly enjoy, I didn’t expect Kayshon to suggest we go. Papa Ren and Kayshon have gone on a couple outings together, so I’m charging it to Papa Ren’s influence. Yet, it’s an influence I will never complain about Kayshon having.
“Let me find out you know how much the church mother will harass you if you walk in late,” I say, giggling.
“Oh, Kyce already informed me when I mentioned our going today.”
Laughing, I allow Kayshon to lead me out of the house as my eyes roam toward Jawaan’s house as Kayshon locks up.
Lord, cover my brother-in-love and surround him with your love.
“Please turn to Psalm twenty-three, verse three. It’s a very familiar passage of scripture, yet it’s the one from which today’s message was birthed. The Bible records these words: He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Bow your heads for a word of prayer,” Papa Ren says as I shift in my seat, anxious to hear where he’s going with today’s message.
One thing about Lorenzo Reese is that his sermons are never so heavy and deep that you can’t follow or understand what he’s trying to convey.
“Eternal and wise God, I ask that I would decrease that You increase. Let everyone, under the sound of my voice, have ears to hear what the Spirit is saying to the church. Use me for your Glory. Speak through me that someone might find You. And when you’re done, I’ll gladly take my seat. In the matchless name of Jesus, I pray. Amen.”
Everyone takes their seats as Papa Ren begins his sermon, and my ears tingle with awareness of his words. Kayshon slips his hand in mine, effectively calming my nerves that I’m sure he’s unaware are spiraling. Unconsciously, my focus shifts, and I start looking around the room until landing on an unknown woman. As soon as our eyes connect, a vision of Jawaan slams into me, strong enough to shift my mind from the sermon.
Whoever she is would be perfect for Jawaan.
The woman smiles weakly before the person next to her turns to look in my direction with her brows hiking. Something familiar that I can’t pinpoint causes my chest to tighten as my mouth twists.
“What’s got your attention?” Kayshon leans over whispering, cutting off my line of sight to the women, diverting my focus from Papa Ren.
“Nothing.”
Wordlessly, Kayshon assesses me with his forehead wrinkling as his thumb lightly caresses my index finger.
“Pay attention, Shari,” he says after a minute, causing me to tune back into Papa Ren’s message.
“God wants you to know that He’s the all-sufficient shepherd who is able to see you through any storm life might thrust you into. I know that sometimes we get through things that make us think God has left us. Remember that God is sovereign and not only guides His sheep, but He also goes before them. Trust God regardless of the path you take, resting in the knowledge that He has already gone before you. God wants you to remember that even when the storm tires you out, He can restore you. Saints, that’s good news. There is no burden too big nor valley too wide to keep God from leading you to a place of victory,” Papa Ren says in a strong and calm timbre.
“I should have been coming over to hear one of Pastor Reese’s messages,” Kayshon whispers.
Nodding, I silently agree because Papa Ren’s message is hitting me deeply and definitely providing me with a light, airy feeling I can appreciate.
“I’m glad our house isn’t too far of a walk from Masani and Kyce’s, or we would have driven instead of walked. I’m so full,” I say, rubbing my stomach.
After church, everyone gathered at Masani and Kyce’s for family dinner, and somehow, Kayshon and I have been suckered into hosting the family next Sunday.
“Do you need to bypass the house and walk off this itis? I’m trying to rub on your booty tonight, Shari.”
Clenching my stomach, I start laughing at the lie in Kayshon’s statement because I know, like he does, that it's not all he wants to do when we go to bed.
“Mhm. I hear you, but no, I’m good. A good trip to the bathroom should set me right.”
“Damn, Shari. You’re about to cause my dick to go MIA and shit. Kill the visual, Jesus,” Kayshon says, releasing my hand to frantically wipe his eyes as I laugh hysterically.
“I’m sorry, boo.”
“No, you’re not. You know what the hell you’re doing saying that sh—damn, Shari.” A deep frown covers Kayshon’s lips as I giggle lightly.
“On another note, where was Jawaan? Isn’t he usually at the dinners?” I ask when my eyes connect with Jawaan’s house.
Unlike most times when Jawaan is home, his driveway is vacant because of his missing vehicle, causing me to wonder about his whereabouts.
“I don’t know. He didn’t answer Kyce or my call today,” Kayshon says, grimacing.
“Is that usual for him?”
“Nah. If he doesn’t call back after I put you to sleep, I’m gonna pop up on his ass,” Kayshon says in a harsh tone as the area around his eyes tightens.
“If I let you out of bed,” I say in a sultry tone I hope will distract him long enough to temporarily shift his thoughts.
“Hm. Say less, Shari.”
*woof, woof, woof*
The sound of a dog barking has Kayshon and I turning to look behind us just as we step onto our porch. Sassy runs full speed from Kyce’s house as he stands on the sidewalk watching his dog come home.
“Well, if I would have known all I had to do was get married for this traitor to return to the crib, I would have?—”
“Stalled a little longer. You know you’re out of practice for dog maintenance,” I say, cutting him off as Sassy hops on the porch with her tail wagging while standing in front of the security door.
“Not even for a minute. Blessings don’t come around often where I’m concerned. So, I’d never do something to cause God to think I’m forfeiting the one He gave me in you.”
“Well, you better pop your shit then, Kayshon Patton.”
“Oh, I’m about to. Come on in here so I can put your ass to sleep, Mrs. Patton.”
God, just in case I neglected to say it… thank You.
The End