Practicing What You Preach. Vanessa Davis Griggs

Practicing What You Preach - Vanessa Davis Griggs


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this time around. “And before you ask, yes, my brother still lives here. He’s real tall, about six-five, weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds, and he adores his little sister. So I would watch myself if I were you,” I half teased.

      He smiled and nodded. “Duly noted. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

      “Okay, you don’t wear a wedding ring, but I still like to ask just to be sure. Are you married, or separated, legally or otherwise?”

      He shook his head. “Nope.”

      I grinned. “Gay? On the down low? Attracted to men in any way, shape, or form other than sheer admiration?”

      He tilted his head downward as he looked at me. “No,” he said. “Now, what would make you ask me something like that?”

      “It’s just one of my dating rules’ questions. My mantra is: assume nothing, and if you want to know, ask.”

      “I’m divorced,” he said, volunteering the information before I could ask. He took another bite of his burger and chewed a few times before adding, “and I have a child.”

      My grin instantly fell from my face. “Divorced? And you have a child?”

      “Yes and yes. A little girl. Her name is Aaliyah, and she’s five.” He then leaned down and over, I can only assume to get a better look at my face. “Is something wrong?”

      “No,” I lied.

      What I should have told him was the other one of my three rules when it comes to the men I date. I don’t date married or separated men. I don’t date men I even suspect may be on the down low. And I don’t date men who are divorced. I once dated a guy who was younger than me, although I prefer a guy who is older. So I’m no prude or anything like that. I’ve even dated a guy who had two children, so children weren’t a deterrence for me. My rules are in place to protect me before I get too deeply involved with a man, any man, no matter how awesome or heaven-sent he may appear to be.

      The first two rules need no explanation. And it would have been too much trouble to go into full details regarding my third rule. Suffice it to say: there are too many scriptures in the Bible about being with someone who’s divorced for me to deal with anyone who is divorced. I don’t profess to be a Bible scholar by any means. Nor do I imply that I know all that’s behind those scriptures, either.

      But what I do know is that there is something about it being a cause for a charge of adultery. And honestly, I have enough problems and sins of my own to have to ask forgiveness for; I really don’t need to add someone else’s charge of sin to my ever-running account.

      “So”—I flashed him a smile as I finished up my sandwich—“tell me about your daughter.”

      Listening more out of politeness now, although the way he spoke of his little girl was truly endearing and inspiring, I knew full well this would be the last time the two of us would be seeing each other. At least seeing each other on any type of personal basis.

      Such a waste. God, this is so unfair! Do you hear me, God? I really liked him, too.

      Chapter 5

      But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into marvelous light.

      —1 Peter 2:9

      I must admit: Caller ID is a wonderful thing. I really had a great time with Marcus. And had I answered the phone when he called the day after our date, I most likely would have let him talk me into another one. With Caller ID, I ended up allowing his call to go to the answering machine, fully planning on calling him back when I felt strong enough to turn down any and all invitations or continuing relationship talks. Friday, he called me at work.

      “Well, I suppose you’re really busy, since you haven’t returned my call,” he began.

      “Yeah, it’s busy everywhere. You know how it gets sometimes. And I have this wedding that I’m working hard on.” I immediately began to look for an excuse to get off the phone as quickly as possible. “It’s also really jumping here today,” I said.

      “I enjoyed our date on Wednesday night,” Marcus said, his voice deep and strong. “To be honest, it’s the most fun I’ve had in years, other than with my daughter, of course.”

      “Yes, it was nice,” I said. My heart started to pound faster, then skipped one beat.

      “What do you say that we do it again? Go on another date. Your choice again.”

      I allowed the silence as I searched for the right words. “You know, I don’t think so.” I made sure the tone of my voice was not mean. I wasn’t trying to put him down.

      Now it was his turn to be silent. “Oh, so you don’t care to go out with me again? Well then, I suppose things didn’t go as well on our date as I had thought.”

      I could feel myself softening. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like him or that there was anything wrong with him personally. He really is a nice guy. “Marcus, honestly I’m just so busy these days. That’s all.”

      “I realize you’re working hard on that wedding. I’m scheduled to be in a wedding. I know a lot of work goes into planning one, even though my part has so far only entailed being fitted for a tux and committing to a night for a rehearsal and that one day for the actual wedding. What I’m saying to you is that I don’t mind waiting. After you finish—”

      “Listen, Marcus, I think it would be best if we just let this whole thing go. It was fun, but I really do need to stay focused. All right? I have dreams, and I just realized I really need to work hard at them if I want any of them to manifest themselves. You understand.”

      I heard him sigh. “Sure,” he said. “Of course. I understand.”

      “Okay, then good. Well, I need to get back to work now. Okay?”

      “Melissa.” Marcus said my name with such tenderness. “Will you keep my phone number? And if you change your mind, if you ever want to go to Bible study again together, or anything, anything at all, even if you just want someone to talk to, I’m a great listener. Will you please give me a call?”

      He was making this so hard. “Sure. Yeah, sure,” I said. “Listen, I need to catch this call. Good-bye.” I took the other call. After I finished, I placed my forehead firmly in the palms of my hands. “God, why is it nothing ever seems to work for me?”

      I hadn’t lied when I told Marcus I was too busy to pursue a relationship or to talk to him. He’s seen how busy this place gets. A few times, even he has had to come back because things were so hectic. Dr. Brewer’s schedule gets all out of whack when he has to do an emergency C-section. This leaves me having to call and let patients know we’re running behind and having to reschedule those who either can’t wait or can’t be here at a later time.

      Two years ago, when Dr. Brewer worked in an OB/GYN practice with four other doctors (one of whom was a female), they were able to cover each other easily. The downside was the complaints from patients who preferred a certain doctor but were forced to see all of the doctors so they would be familiar with whoever was on call. A lot of Dr. Brewer’s patients were upset when they were in labor and found they had no real say-so when it came to which doctor would deliver their baby.

      The breaking point for Dr. Brewer came when one of his patients was treated badly by one of the associates. On top of that, she was a high-risk patient. He’d asked why she hadn’t called him, since he happened to be available that day, especially since the doctor on call was already tied up and a backup doctor was required to come in.

      “I did ask for you,” she had said. “In fact, I begged for you. I was told very nicely it didn’t matter what I wanted. Then that doctor came in, and he treated me like I was some charity case or something. There I was in pain and in trouble, and he talked to me like I was some kind of a bother to him. To be honest,


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