Minding Things

By Union Bean

Snazzy and innately passionate Karolyn experiences a sudden and disruptive breakup on the same day she meets her enigmatic handsome new barber, Louis.

On the rebound, Karolyn finds herself going back to his barbershop for more than just the full-service haircuts, even after she realizes he is married. At first, it is only playful flirting on both their parts, but gradually she becomes obsessed with winning his affection.

Betraying her beliefs, Karolyn goes against her own rules and falls for Louis, starting an erotic, raunchy affair with him. As quickly as it begins, Louis runs back to his family, deserting her on an island inn. Shattered, she is left on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

However, Mercy steps in to pick up the pieces as Karolyn is brought together with John, a single, soft-spoken, well-meaning Christian. He is perfectly capable of giving her the ‘happily ever after‘ she always desired, except she is unsure of her feelings for him.

As her heart heals, she is about to realize her true feelings for John, when Louis again crosses her path. Now she must choose whether to mind once more the things of her throbbing flesh, or pursue an uncertain relationship hoping to find lifelong love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781641386852

Book preview

Dedication

To my much loved one and only son, Robert, a devoted father and chef extraordinaire, for his unwavering support, listening ear, and interesting concoctions when he first began cooking.

To my beloved daughter Celeste, an exceptional mother and dedicated educator; and to her distinguished husband, Brian, a remarkable father and praiseworthy PhD, for being a living example of marital bliss and laughing at my stories.

To my daughter-in-love, Salisa, a loving mother and successful overcomer of the vicissitudes of life, for investing in this project and giving me my first grandchild.

To my life-giving grandchildren, Malik, Toussaint James, Karolisa, and Parker, for increasing the joy of my latter years.

To my exuberant brother, Michael, a considerate uncle and phenomenally gifted teacher, for sharing his insights into human nature and playing with me during recess.

To the lost hurting souls that the Lord, in His infinite goodness and mercy, anointed me to write this story of love, forgiveness, and restoration; so you might choose to mind the things of the spirit and not of the flesh.

Prologue

It was in her, there is no doubt of that. There would always come a season when it would sway her. Not that it ever had total control of her as if she had no choice. The point is, while she did not knowingly make provisions for it to emerge, she wholeheartedly participated in it whenever it made its inevitable appearance.

Lodged in the unruly side of her nature, it seemed to manifest of its own volition. Still, she welcomed it whenever it caught her in a reckless mood. Once engaged in it, she liked it in spite of knowing it was wrong to give in to its demands. The pleasure it bestowed on her was exceedingly blissful if not for the three troublesome aftereffects left in its wake.

First, there were the debilitating scars she sustained from its battle with the righteous force that fought against it running a free course through her life. Second, the pleasure she received from indulging in it was brief and did not produce the lasting satisfaction it promised. Lastly, the joy it conferred on her never exceeded the grief, which inescapably followed once its urges were gratified.

Perhaps giving in to it seems downright foolish, if not altogether insane, yet many succumb to its seduction every time. Why give in? As natural experiences go, few things on this side of heaven compare to the raw thrill it imparts to our flesh, or better satisfy the emotional needs of our souls.

Notwithstanding, nothing else has the ability to wreak more havoc in our lives than its devastating consequences. Submitting to its demands temporarily satiates our flesh, but the contaminants, which it loosens in our spirit, perpetuate a susceptibility that lowers our resistance to its subsequent enticements.

What is the it I am referring to? The it is the lust of the flesh. This story relates the pain and pleasure in the life of Karolyn Vincent, a recent born-again believer. After becoming discouraged, she stops pursuing the things of the spirit and begins minding the things of her flesh. Our saga travels alongside Karolyn as she explores her innate carnality, detailing not only the consequences she faces because of her choices, but also the encounters she has with others that have trekked down a similar trail.

We soon discover Karolyn and her fellow journeyers are not unique in that respect since the lust of the flesh resides in each of us. If allowed to gain control, it will do so to an extent contingent on other variables, the most significant of these is the personal relationship an individual has with the Lord.

Our plot probes deeper into the age-old struggle of good vs evil than a typical tale, which merely chronicles the innocent becoming corrupt. The following pages reveal that the underlining cause of it is the sinful nature that is inherent in a fallen mankind. Now that I have outlined the basis of this narrative, I forewarn my dear readers that the storyline ventures into some steamy places along its literary path to portray and expose the underbelly of it.

I ask those of a more modest nature not to take offense whenever my tale heats up since my purpose is to establish a rapport with those readers who followed the same route as Karolyn (or are contemplating doing so in the future). To this end I describe the fleeting pleasure derived from the pitfalls of instant gratification so it will emphasize the contrast of the joy-unspeakable contentment gained through virtuous pursuit. Therefore, if my introductory spiel has captured your attention and roused any excitement within, you are already embroiled in the life of my story. Enjoy!

Section 1

The Barber’s Chair

For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit.

—Romans 8:5

Chapter 1

The Mark

Y ou made me fall in love with you, and you know it, exclaim ed Louis with a smug look on his face.

I melted as the words flowed like honey out of his mouth. A beautiful, sensual mouth with smooth full lips just ripe for kissing. I longed for one now, so my tongue could explore the hidden treasure I believed his kiss would contain. Bewitched by my fantasy, I fidgeted in the chair unable to sit still.

What did you say? I asked distractedly.

You not only heard what I said, but you felt it as well, he replied.

My imagination took off again as my eyes traveled the length and breadth of his body. I supposed most barbers did not sport the well-defined muscles that he did since their dexterity was developed mainly through eye-hand coordination. I believed his finely chiseled physique was the exception and I envisioned his build enabled him to be quite agile between the sheets. A delayed reaction to the accuracy of his last remark hit me, so I attempted to hide my response by repeating my earlier question.

You still have not answered me. Are you available? I inquired.

He ignored me, and continued speaking intent on making his point. He had a habit of overriding me when I spoke, often dismissing my opinions when I did get the chance to state them. However, I took no offense at his overbearing manner since I loved the passion in his voice when he expressed his thoughts.

The first time you came to the shop, I sensed you possessed a sweet disposition, which is seldom observed in anyone outside of those who are just coming of age or are very inexperienced. I knew from your appearance and soon determined from your conversation that neither of those descriptions applied to you. Yet you were open and easy to read, which is unusual for someone I figured to be approaching or in her forties. Most women your age rarely show affection or enthusiasm for the opposite sex unless it is part of a game or scheme. Your demeanor was refreshingly out of the ordinary, which at the time led me to conclude you were a genuinely nice person and therefore, a rare jewel.

Upon hearing myself described as a rare jewel, I drifted into a daydream where I magically transformed into the image of a glittering sapphire, since that is my birthstone. In this conjured-up reverie, I did not glitter with the artificial luster of today’s manufactured synthetic stones, but sparkled with the deep blue brilliance of a Kashmir-origin nugget. I believed Louis not only knew and appreciated the difference between the two, but recognized I was an exemplar of the latter.

You are definitely the kind of woman a man can spend a lifetime waiting to meet, but only a moment to love, he claimed as I tuned back into his voice.

He paused, looking into my eyes as his voice took on the soft warm tone usually reserved for moments of a more intimate nature. My heart was beating so wildly, I had to force myself to concentrate. He had used the word love twice in reference to his feelings for me and that had temporarily impaired my cognitive ability to comprehend anything else. As I attempted to take in what else he was saying, I kept doubting I heard him correctly since it seemed too good to be true someone actually felt that way about me.

I will only admit this once, but I have known for some time that I am completely taken with you, declared Louis.

In my fantasy, I wanted him to follow up this admission by scooping me out of the chair and carrying me to the back of the shop where he could freely express his feelings for me. Shifting in my seat, I reined in such thoughts sensing he was too reserved to act so impetuously, especially at his place of business.

You are not going to answer me, are you? I exclaimed, my indignation void of any true irritation since his statement had so vividly colored my thoughts.

Weeks of shameless flirting with Louis had driven me to the point where I felt embolden to question him about his private life. I was ready to experience the taste and touch of him and wanted to take things to the next level. After I asked him the same question a second time and he again sidestepped answering me, the likelihood we were about to hook up started to lose substance just like the daydream that generated it. It was clear he did not intend to inform me of his status even though he just claimed to have feelings for me.

In my foolishness, I refused to interpret his evasiveness as a sign he was involved elsewhere. I took it as an indication he was hesitant to start a new romance because he probably had been hurt in the past. Since it appeared he was not yet willing to let me into his life; I attempted to hide my disappointment, unaware my eyes were speaking volumes about my feelings.

Okay, I guess by not answering, you actually told me what it is I wanted to know without saying it in words, I said, still trying to get a response out of him.

The fact I did not answer you does not mean anything has changed between us. We are still the same two people with the same feelings for each other as we had before you asked your question, he said in a determined voice.

When I did not reply, he placed his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up as if checking the angle of my haircut. The touch of his fingers sent a wild tingle through me, causing my fantasy to fortify itself within my heart and mind. Desperate to be loved, I twisted his slight gesture into proof that his earlier remarks were the sincere declarations of his heart.

I cannot deny you are someone I would rather have in my life than be without, he finally confessed a short while later.

I grabbed hold to those words as a further confirmation he cared for me based simply on my wanting so much for it to be true. If there was another woman in his life; apparently, she was not giving him the love necessary to fulfill him; otherwise, he would not want me.

Whatever qualms Louis was struggling with in regard to me, they had not kept him from admitting how he felt about me. His implicit avowals of affection appeared genuine and suggested whether he was married or not, he was reaching out to me because he lacked love in his life. I believed he was not the sort of person who would intentionally misrepresent matters of the heart, although I accepted this as true without really knowing his character.

You are in good hands, he said as he slowly slid his hand from under my chin in one long caress.

Am I? I gasped.

Hands that will never hurt you because you are safe with me, he murmured.

My mind was racing too fast to respond. His words cut into my heart and lodged there as I refashioned them into a binding commitment. My sometimes-naïve and all-the-time-love-starved soul persuaded me his intentions were honorable and true, since that is what being safe meant to me. Immersed in a dreamlike haze, I gave way and allowed a quixotic fantasy to take shape.

As Louis stood over me, an image shot across my mind depicting his stance as that of a cunning predator straddling a subdued prey. Any relevance that such a revelation meant I could be placing myself in jeopardy, was relegated to a nonsensical place in the erotic imagery driving my desire.

As strange as it was for such an allegory to flash before my mind’s eye at that particular moment; it was stranger still I failed to regard it with any significance. Far from seeing it as an omen, I dismissed the likelihood it was a premonition of the danger looming ahead on the path stretched out before me.

From far away, I heard Louis ask if I played cards. I smiled, presuming his question was a roundabout way of asking me on a date. I immediately supposed his earlier coyness was due to being reserved and not an indication he was involved with someone else or lacked interest in dating me.

I am not much of a card player, I offered, thinking to myself, and you will not be either, if I have my way.

Are you familiar with the game of poker? he asked, smiling broadly.

No, I am not, but I am sure I could learn if I put my mind to it, I quickly added not wanting him to withdraw the invitation.

The reason I asked is because poker is not merely an entertaining card game, but a strategic contest in which the players match wits, usually for more lucrative reasons. An essential part of the game is to keep a blank expression on your face to prevent the other players from deducing which cards you hold in your hand. I believe if you ever played, you would instantly be pegged as ‘The Mark’, since you do not have what’s referred to as a poker face.

Chapter 2

The Fast Shuffle

G ood afternoon, gentlemen, I said in my bravest voice. Does anyone here know Murdock Stephens?

I believe I heard of him, responded the barber closest to me after shooting a glance my way.

Good. I am checking if I am in the right shop. I work with Murdock and he recommended I give his barber a try since mine recently retired. Is there time for me to get a haircut? I see your sign indicates you are closing shortly, I inquired, glancing at the business hours posted on the window.

I think we can take care of you, the same barber replied graciously, though somewhat distractedly.

Thank you. Are you Murdock’s barber? I asked.

Yes. I’ve been cutting Murdock’s hair for years, he replied.

Nice to meet you, my name is Karolyn Vincent.

My name is Louis Powers. Please have a seat, and I will be with you as soon as I finish with this client.

I could not help giving Louis a long intense stare. I was curious about him after hearing Murdock, who I knew to be a severe judge of character, refer to him as a perfect gentlemen. My curiosity was not mutual as Louis displayed little interest in me. I took no offense since I was somewhat preoccupied with the date I had later that evening with my boyfriend Charles. I was looking forward to seeing him since I had not heard from him during the time he was out of town.

Usually, I accompanied Charles on his weekend trips, but we argued on the previous one when I again insisted on separate overnight accommodations. I did not expect Charles to take me on his next trip, but I was unprepared for him to stay away for more than the weekend without contacting me. I feared his silence meant he was serious about breaking up with me because of my ongoing refusal to have sex.

As it happened, while Charles was away, I decided to give in to his demands and sleep with him as soon as he returned home. However, unknown to me, his frustration over my no-sex policy had already driven him past his breaking point. Before leaving on this trip, Charles decided to end his relationship with me and invite another woman to accompany him out of town.

When Charles finally called earlier that morning asking me over to his house later in the evening, it was not another ploy to get me in bed as I imagined, but a plan to break up with me. Clueless of what the night held in store, I entered the shop that afternoon with a captivating glow, anticipating in a few short hours I would be enjoying a night of intense lovemaking. After months of engaging in heavy foreplay with Charles, I was lit up like an infatuated schoolgirl about to receive her first kiss.

Emerging from my trancelike reflections, I focused back on my present surroundings. I glanced around the shop taking in the professional atmosphere and noting the signage on the walls barring the consumption of any intoxicating substances on the premises. I was impressed with Louis’s business acumen since Murdock mentioned his barber also owned the shop. The pleasant banter of polite conversation was blending with the soft sounds of jazz playing in the background, making it clear the proprietor was a clean decent man since he operated a clean decent business.

As my attention was drawn back to rest on Louis, I realized he was altogether a handsome man in his late thirties or possibly early forties. When he spoke, he displayed a quick wit and though his tone was soft-spoken, he delivered his point of view with quiet authority. It pleased me he appeared to possess the mixture of characteristics I found appealing in a man, so on impulse I decided to flirt with him for the thrill of being a little naughty.

I gave no thought why I considered it acceptable to flirt with someone I just met. Perhaps because Murdock described Louis as a perfect gentleman I considered him a docile sort of man who was safe to tease for sport. I knew presenting myself in such a raunchy way would make a poor first impression, but instead of dissuading me, the image of appearing as a bad girl added an element of excitement. It also clouded the fact that mild mannered or not, Louis was still a male!

My decision to act out with Louis revealed the influence my unchecked passions had foisted upon my moral compass. In a twisted, self-sabotaging, devil-may-care way, I presumed flirting with Louis would dim the light of my conscience so I could better enjoy the night’s assignation with Charles.

Managing my life with such impetuousness was typical of the decision-making process I used as I stumbled out of one crisis into another without pausing to consider the impact each had upon my heart or mind. My failure to deal responsibly with my issues kept me from properly healing, which in turn lessened my ability to address things from a more balanced perspective. After having two children, my first marriage failed, leaving me emotionally bereft. Over the next several years, I formed superficial liaisons with volatile partners that took away from the stability I needed as a single parent. Later, following a short courtship, I impulsively married Chance Wilson and supported him while he completed his last year of study to obtain a postgraduate degree.

I believed in meeting Chance’s needs, it would automatically ensure he would meet mine. Unfortunately, I did not take the time to know or understand the needs of a husband, nor for that matter, my needs as a wife. Although I loved him, I did not realize I was so psychologically damaged. I took revenge on him for all the pain I experienced in previous relationships. He endured my tantrums until he got his degree, then concocted a scheme to free himself from our marriage.

After accepting a job located some distance from where we were living, Chance called me on the phone informing me he no longer wanted to be married and suggested we try dating other people. The shock caused me to take hold of myself, but it was too late to save my marriage. I had misbehaved so many times, Chance flatly refused to try and work things out.

The pain of another rejection drove me to accept Christ and claim Him as my Lord and Savior; but in reality, I only accepted Him as my Savior and not as my Lord. Consequently, I did not seek His will for my life. I presumed the restoration of my marriage was what He would do because it was what I wanted.

After hearing the lyrics in a hymn that said, When you tried everything, and everything has failed, try Jesus, the words took on a magical nature. I believed praying to God was more or less like rubbing a genie’s lamp to wish for whatever you wanted. I was devastated when my marriage was not restored, and the very girl Chance left me for became his wife. It seemed my heart-felt prayer to the Lord went unanswered. Although I knew the Lord cared for me after tasting the Father’s great love for mankind through His plan of salvation, I was left bewildered why trusting in the word of a loving God had not worked for me.

Discouraged, I stopped believing the Lord would bless me with a companion and decided I had no choice but to employ my own methods to find love, even if that meant I had to go outside my recently embraced beliefs to get it.

I started socializing with non-believers and eventually met Charles. Now that I had decided to sleep with him, the tenuous hold I had on virtue was so loose, I found it easy to flirt with Louis. As soon as I sat in his barber chair, I addressed him with a familiarity that was inappropriate other than between consenting intimates.

Karolyn, I am ready for you now, please take a seat in my chair, he said politely.

Ready so soon? Isn’t there time for a little foreplay?

He frowned slightly and shot a cursory glance my way. I appreciated the fact he was quick-witted, but for a second, I sensed he was somehow disappointed I was the type of woman to speak so crudely to a man I had just met. However, he recovered quickly and guided the conversation onto a more respectable level by changing the subject.

So you know Murdock? he asked.

I have worked with him for over twenty years, but recently accepted an early retirement buy-out. I am only a few months away from my last day, I said, following his lead for the moment.

You are still a young woman. What are you going to do with all that free time on your hands?

I intend to take it easy for a year, then return to college. I want to get a degree in a field related to psychotherapy since I have always been drawn to help people fix their problems.

That seems like a worthwhile goal. What are your plans for the year before you continue your education?

Have some fun, I said laughing.

Are you sure that is wise? They say idle hands are the devil’s workshop.

Oh, my hands will hardly be idle. I plan to keep them busy getting me out of the trouble my fun lands me in.

If your plan is to get into trouble, then that is a different story.

As long as the trouble proves not to be too gruesome, I believe it is an inescapable part of having fun. Perhaps I can persuade my new barber to join me.

That’s sounds like the kind of thing I have spent my whole life trying to avoid.

Oh, Louis! Where’s the fun in that? You and your beautiful smile need to enjoy life. At least that is my opinion.

Well, everyone is entitled to their own.

And mine is that you have a pretty smile!

A few seconds ago you called it beautiful, now you downgraded it to pretty.

There is nothing about you to downgrade. To the contrary, I find the closer I look, the more I like everything I see. Your smile is as beautiful as your eyes. In fact, you are quite handsome altogether, if I might be so bold as to say.

You are so bold, since you did say, he returned, laughing, and then added, and you are a very pretty lady.

Oh! So I am very pretty, but not beautiful?

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

That’s raw!

Wait. Let me finish. Since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I believe it entails more than just the outward appearance, but includes how one is perceived on the inside as well.

Are you suggesting I’m only very pretty because you find me less attractive on the inside?

Absolutely not! I said you were pretty because I only observed what you look like on the outside. It will take time to determine your inner appearance, so it remains to be seen if you are beautiful.

Well said, Louis, but one point is off.

You think so?

"You are guilty of downgrading me just now from very pretty to pretty."

I stand corrected.

Delighted his responses were a combination of keen insight and calm reserve, I continued a light repartee with him throughout the entire haircut. I enjoyed the exchange, but when my heart raced faster and faster, I reminded myself it was all just a meaningless interlude, until I joined Charles in bed for a night of unbridled passion.

Take a look in the mirror to see if you like your haircut, he said when he finished my hair.

Wow! Thank you for the great haircut. You made me look very pretty for my date tonight, I replied.

Actually, now that I had a chance to take a closer look, you really are quite beautiful in spite of your impishness, he returned.

A wave of warm pleasure flowed over me as I paid him and left the shop. His compliment touched me more than I expected, but then, I was somewhat starved for attention. Charles had cooled toward me even before we went on our last trip together and then took off without me while things between us were still up in the air.

Charles did not take issue with my being a born-again Christian since he claimed it made me more lovable. Initially, he even tolerated my no-sex policy, but after a time he wanted me to sleep with him. The only reason I refused was because I was holding out for a marriage proposal. I planned to resume living in accordance with my faith once we were married and then convert him to my beliefs. It was a stretch for me to believe it would happen that way since Charles adamantly refused to have any contact with organized religion and marrying me would not necessarily have changed his mind.

When he left on his last trip without telling me goodbye, I sensed it was time to give in and sleep with him. I had previously convinced myself that waiting until we were engaged would somehow make sleeping with him less sinful. Now that it appeared he was on the brink of quitting me, I bent my principles even further and reversed my decision about having sex since it seemed necessary to help bring about our engagement. After arriving at his house later that night, not only did he break up with me, but he admitted to already hooking back up with his former girlfriend.

I am sorry, little girl, but I have known Eileen a long time. After you and I returned from that last trip, she called and we started talking. I realized there was still some chemistry left between us, so I took her on this last trip with me, and everything fell into place. Please try to understand it was a last-minute decision.

Oh, I have no problem understanding what you are saying. It’s the time I invested in our relationship that I don’t understand. Apparently, you were using me to fill in the gap until she wanted you back.

You know that is not true since I was the one who broke it off with Eileen, and I did not meet you until after she was out of the picture. When you and I first met, it seemed we both were in the same place. You were not ready for a sexual relationship, and I needed time to make sure Eileen was out of my system. After a while, I felt it was time for us to become intimate, but instead, I had to settle for the partial relationship your religion permitted. I wanted things to work out with you, but time ran out and our chance for romance ended. I told you a hundred times those religious fanatics at that church messed up your mind when you let them convince you to accept all those sanctimonious rules about not having sex. You have to give love to receive love, so if you take nothing else away from our relationship, I want you to know your hang-up about sleeping with me is what came between us.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

Maybe not, but it will help you get wise to yourself so you won’t make the same mistake the next time.

Okay, Charles. I need to tell you something. While you were away, I realized I was making a mistake by refusing to have sex with you. I decided I would sleep with you and intended to stay with you tonight so you don’t have to break up with me.

No, little girl, I can’t do that.

What?

Listen Karolyn, as a man, I could take advantage of this situation and sleep with you. However, it would be sex on a purely physical level because my heart would not be in it. I believe you deserve to be made love to by a man who is into you; and right now, I am into Eileen. I won’t do a fast shuffle between the two of you because you would end up getting hurt.

I am getting hurt! I screamed as tears came to my eyes.

Don’t be like that.

How should I be, Charles? Did you think our relationship meant so little to me I would move over and wish you and Eileen well? I came here tonight ready to give myself to you, and you reject me!

Actually, I am not the one who did the rejecting.

What do you call this?

Calm down and listen to me for a minute. Whether you can admit it or not, I might have come close, but I was never the one able to enter your heart. No one is at fault. It’s just the way things played out, so there is no reason we can’t part as friends.

Friends! Really, Charles? That sounds like a memorized speech to soften the blow of being kicked to the curb, but it won’t work on me.

Don’t you see? If I had not cared as much as I did, I would not have waited so long for you. I am not your enemy little girl, so there is no reason we can’t end our relationship on a pleasant note.

Absolutely not. You will never get the chance to recycle me like you are doing with Eileen. Save those pathetic lines for your next victim.

You are being childish, he said, trying to pull me in his arms.

Don’t touch me. I can smell perfume all over you and it’s not mine.

Eileen’s scent is still in the air because she just left so I could be alone with you and explain everything.

You are an insufferable ass! I said, slapping him across his face.

Did that make you feel better, little girl? he said, holding my arms down at my side.

I hate you!

No, you don’t, but you don’t love me either. I know you think you do, but if that were the case, you would have totally submitted yourself to me and allowed me to love you the way I wanted.

I was intending to give myself to you tonight, but now you don’t want me since you got what you wanted from Eileen. Apparently, you never cared for me beyond getting me in bed.

If having sex had not been such a drawn-out affair, we could have made a go of it. As it stands now, your failure to put me first prevented us from tightening up our relationship.

I was prepared to put you first tonight, Charles, and you have no idea what it was costing me.

I don’t claim to know the cost to you, but I do know everything in life has a set time. If you don’t make a move before your time ends, then you forfeit your turn. I told you on our last trip I would not beg or plead with you again to let me love you. I appreciate the fact you finally recognize what is important to a man like me, but you waited too long and your chance to work things out with me is gone.

No, please Charles, I begged, crying uncontrollably.

I am sorry you are so upset, but remember what I told you, to receive love, you must first be willing to give it. Now, come in the den and stay a while so you can get yourself together.

No! I never want to see or talk to you again! I screamed, running out his front door.

Chapter 3

Let the Game Begin

As furious as I was that Charles slept with Eileen before breaking up with me, I was more resentful I held out one time too many before giving in to his demands. It was especially frustrating that I overplayed my hand and lost out on having sex with him because I wanted to sleep with him the entire time we dated.

I hoped Charles might change his mind, but after weeks went by and he did not call, I paid a visit to my friend Annie Mae. She was an older woman I gravitated to in times of stress since I believed she cared for me. Annie Mae would openly discuss the battles she fought in her life, offering me the advice she believed would keep me from repeating her mistakes and getting hurt.

Annie Mae was not a Christian, but I liked talking to her since the things she shared let me know I was not alone in my failed attempts to find love. Her advice was not biblically sound, but it was well seasoned with insight on how to deal with the good and bad in life and in men. She always took the time to listen to whatever was troubling me so I felt free to confide almost everything in her. Since my time attending church was so short and my exposure to the Word of God so limited, I felt comfortable in going back to seek advice from Annie Mae.

I was not taught anything about God or the Bible as I was growing up. The only time I remember the name of the Lord being mentioned in my formative years was in the course of someone getting cussed out. After accepting Christ, I was so ashamed of my background, I hid my struggles as much as possible, especially from a group of older women known as church mothers. I avoided their prayer meetings and women workshops since I feared if I exposed my past, it would subject me