Chapter 9 #3
Faith nodded, then leaned over and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you, Elise. Your kindness is what I always admired about you. I might be unapologetically me, but I could learn a thing or two from you. Right now, I want to apologize for my actions at the Fall Festival.”
“Apology accepted under the condition that we stop feuding from this day forward and start from scratch.”
“Deal,” Faith affirmed, and we shook on it.
“I also apologize for hurting your hand that day. I didn’t have to apply that much force.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Y’all are in here hugging and apologizing. Who is she, ma?” Khalil badgered.
“Khalil, this is my sister, Elise. Elise, this is your nephew, Khalil,” Faith bubbled.
“I knew it,” Khalil nodded, leaning back in the seat. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well.”
“My mom just told me that she has a brother and sister on her dad’s side. I haven’t met anybody from that side. What team you coach for?”
“Northside,” I informed him.
“That’s what’s up. I go to Wiregrass. We’ll probably run into each other again.”
“Not probably. You will. I want you to also meet your Uncle Essex and his family.”
“I’m down,” Khalil nodded as a Ford F-150 pulled onto the grass in front of us. “There goes my dad right there. Ma, I’ll see you later. I love you. Text me when you get home.” Khalil leaned between the seats and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I love you too. There goes the tow truck now. I’ll be out of here right behind y’all.”
Khalil went around to the truck, and Faith went to talk to the tow truck driver. I wished I could text Rashawn and tell him all of the craziness that Faith dropped on me, but that wasn’t an option. Begrudgingly, I had to call Essex, the next best thing.
“Wassup sis? How was the tournament? I hate you and Nash both had events today,” Essex greeted me.
“The tournament went great. We actually had three girls take home first place in their weight class. I’ll tell you all about that later. But I ran into Faith at the tournament,” I confessed.
“What the fuck happened now?”
“Nothing. She was actually nice, and she showed me proof that she’s our sister, and her son looks just like us. Mrs. Jean isn’t really her mom; that’s her grandmother. Her bio mom is really her sister Michelle, and dad cheated on mom with her when she was pregnant with us,” I rambled.
“How you know she ain’t lying?” Essex questioned, and I heard the pause and exhale. He was smoking a blunt while I blabbed.
“Faith showed me proof of the child support agreement between Dad and Mrs. Jean. Plus, they took a DNA test. You know I wouldn’t have taken Faith at face value.
Please, not with our sorted history. I’m giving her a ride home to Brooksville because her car broke down.
I’m staying out there tonight, and she’s coming back to the car.
I gotta go, bye.” I tried to rush him off the phone.
“Don’t hang up the phone! I have my own questions for Faith,” Essex announced as Faith slipped back into the truck.
“What questions do you have? I’m an open book, and we have a long drive home,” Faith quipped, pulling her seat belt on.
I barely slept after dropping Faith and Marlon off.
Church didn’t start until nine o’clock, but I was up and ready at seven.
Essex stayed on the phone with us the entire time as we drove to Brooksville, Faith picked Marlon up from her baby daddy, and I took them home.
Afterwards, I went to my parents’ house, but they refused to open the door because they were still angry about me backing into their car.
That didn’t deter me. We were going to have a conversation about the news Faith dropped on me.
I checked into a hotel for the evening, thankful that I always kept a change of clothes in the trunk of my car.
By 8:50, I was pulling into the parking lot of my father’s church, dressed in a simple teal and navy floral midi dress and my navy Keds.
The combo wasn’t something I’d usually wear to church, but it would do.
I would’ve much rather conversed with my parents at their home, but when I arrived last night they told me to leave or they would call the police about me backing into their car a few weeks back, so I begrudgingly complied.
As usual, the lot was packed. My father’s flock of parishioners was ambling inside. While sitting in my truck, I took a few deep breaths to center myself before stepping out. Essex’s truck pulled into the parking lot, freezing me in my tracks.
Our parents put Essex out of the house when he was sixteen, then went on the news and said they would be fine with his execution after he was falsely accused of murdering his first wife.
Needless to say, their relationship was irreparable in Essex’s eyes.
From my understanding, Essex hadn’t been in the same vicinity as our parents since the night Victoria was murdered.
Our parents tried to reach out to Essex after his name was cleared of all wrongdoing, but even that was motivated by my father’s desire to clean up his image after he was slandered online.
I loved my brother and my parents, and remained neutral through all of their dissension, but I couldn’t handle any more.
I understood why Essex remained on his side and far away from them and their church.
That pulpit gave my father the space to be whoever he wanted to be while living a lie in private.
“Essex, what are you doing here?” I queried once he was out of his truck.
“I know you, Elise. As soon as they sent you away last night and then you decided to stay at that hotel instead of driving back home, I knew why you were sticking around. I’m not here to step on whatever plans you have, but I’m here to silently support you,” he assured me with a firm hug.
I smiled; we knew each other too well. It meant the world to me that Essex would come to the church to support me.
With my head held high, we walked towards the entrance.
My adrenaline was pumping, but I had to have this moment.
Since the day my parents caught me with Rashawn and then threatened to have me placed in a psychiatric hospital, we cut communication.
They sent me a text informing me that I would be disowned if I didn’t come to my senses, plus revoked my access to all church accounts and administrative platforms. On the average day, I wasn’t as devious as I was feeling, but life had a way of bringing that side out of you.
We approached the entrance and were halfway inside when I heard my name in the distance. Faith rushed across the parking lot waving her hands in the air.
“You told her and not me?” Essex questioned.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to be discouraged,” I admitted.
“You thought Faith would discourage you?” He laughed.
“Maybe, she’s in therapy and seemed like a new woman last night,” I detailed.
Faith finally reached us, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a long sleeve blouse. “Good morning! So y’all came here to ruin the service too?” She chirped, sticking her tongue out.
“Ruin the service?” I blurted.
“Oh, you thought Faith was going to discourage you from confronting him?” Essex joked.
“Yeah, that’s not why y’all here?” She eyed us.
“No, I came for the service because I go to church every Sunday. Afterwards, I want to have a conversation,” I clarified my plans.
“MCHT!”
Faith folded her arms across her chest with her lips poked out, already playing the role of the bratty little sister. She’s always been the thorn in my side like a lot of little sisters.
“No, that’s weak. We gotta meet him where he’s at,” Faith argued.
“No, Faith. We are going to be better than him,” I affirmed.
“Fine,” she conceded. “Only because I’m outnumbered.”
I grabbed Faith’s hand, and we entered the church behind the sea of people.
Essex’s tall frame and familiar face immediately garnered attention, and the whispering started.
I ignored the attention and followed the flow of traffic until we claimed seats in the second to last pew on the left.
Faith and Essex sat on opposite sides of me as the choir sang their hearts out.
That would be the part I missed most once I permanently switched to Ms. Sasha’s church.
My eyes landed on Mrs. Jean and Ms. Michelle while they sang and clapped up there.
Mrs. Jean’s husband was on the piano, feet tapping and head bobbing without a care in the world.
A few minutes later, the choir stopped, and my father took to the pulpit. He delivered an enthusiastic opening and, coincidentally, set the theme of children being led astray. Faith nudged my shoulder, and I leaned over to whisper to her.
“He’s a real piece of work coming in here to preach about children being led astray after refusing to speak with me last night.”
There was something about sitting in that church after recent revelations that made everything feel authentic.
My mind wasn’t focused on the sermon. I was too busy monitoring the jovial faces of everyone complicit in covering up Faith’s paternity.
Then I heard a few lines that were seared into my brain.
My father was regurgitating the sermon he delivered after they forced me to come home to repent after catching me with Rashawn.
The immense amount of guilt and shame that hovered over me that weekend was a feeling I’d never forget.
“As parents, we do our best, but sometimes children still choose to be led astray. Especially in today’s society.
The devil comes in hot and digs his vise-like grip so deep that even your best efforts are futile.
We have to ensure that these children understand early that the wicked will perish.
You must spare the rod to save the child. ”