Me, Myself and Him
ME, MYSELF & HIM
A NOVEL
E.N. JOY
www.urbanchristianonline.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
The Final Chapter
Reader’s Group Guide Questions
About the Author
Copyright Page
Dedication
Aunt Gwen, it was you who took me to a place where I could get to know Christ and get the promise of eternal life, and I thank you for that. To this day, we walk this Christian walk together—there to help each other out along the way.
Victorious Life Christian Center, you were the place who introduced me to Christ. Your place of worship has kept me looking ahead, never looking back to wallow in my past, but only looking back to see where God has brought me from (. . . a mighty long way!).
Mother Darling, can you believe we are Christians now—not only in name, but in actions—true practicing Christians? As a little girl, we may not have taken walks together in the park, but this walk with Christ is one that I wouldn’t trade for the world.
My husband, Nick (Bang), even though we praise differently, worship different and have our own personal relationships with God, thank you for letting me cover you with holy oil whenever I felt the need to—LOL (Well, it worked didn’t it? Look at us now).
To my children: My two daughters, Little Joy and Henney, thank you for praying with me, reading the Bible with me and for ministering God’s Word through dance with me. I’m so truly blessed and honored to have been chosen by God to carry two little angels in my womb; my son, Randy, you are an awesome young man of God. It has been prophesized to me that you will become a mighty man of God. I can’t wait to rejoice in that day with you and I pray every day for that manifestation. I’m truly blessed and honored to have been chosen by God to carry one of His messengers in my womb.
To Ayanna and Angie, thanks for understanding why a sistah couldn’t hang out at the bachlorette parties—LOL. But it was an honor to be there when God made you one with your soul mates. Your continued support for my work and my walk does not go unnoticed. You two mean so much to me and have played such major parts in my life. I love you both with all my heart.
Martina, my little niece, you have been a divine little angel in my life and I love you as if our blood pumped the very same blood. . . . Wait a minute; it does—the blood of the lamb, in which we are both covered. We are connected and related through Christ—the ultimate DNA! Love ya!
Last but not least, to my Dad and my four sisters, I love having you here on earth to love and support me, but it’s our eternal life together in heaven that I’m most looking forward to. I love you all.
Acknowledgments
All Carl Weber, with Urban Books, ever knew me as was an author who wrote secular novels that included street lit and erotica. When I informed him of the change in my life—the change in my walk—which ultimately resulted in a change in what I wrote, he never questioned my sincerity or capabilities. Instead, he provided the platform I needed to do just what I wanted to do with this book, which is to minister God’s Word through my gift of written Word. Thank you, Mr. Weber.
All glory be to God for the wonderful guidance of Pastor Howard Williams and First Lady of Victorious Life Christian Center. In addition to all the other stones of the church, Pastor, I was one of the rolling stones. Thanks for making sure the church doors and your heart were open when it was time for me to roll back in and do God’s will in the very place he called me to do it. And to my dear brothers and sisters in Christ at VLCC, thank you for all of your support and prayers.
Aunt Gwen, I had Uncle Johnny and Aunt Joy to care for my son when I had to dedicate my time to travels and writing. For my girls, I have you. Not only do you care for them, but you pick up where I left off when they leave my home and come to yours. You provide an atmosphere where God is still present. Not too many mommies can say that about the place where they drop their kids off to be cared for.
To my reading fans, especially those who knew me by my other writing names and works and yet still decided to support me in my spiritual writings (Namely, Women Empowered by Reading Book Club, who even made me an honorary member): you have no idea what a blessing you are to my heart. That right there is unconditional love. Not too many authors can claim that sort of victory from their readers. Most fans love writers to stick with the same program and give ’em what they want. But you have allowed me to do more than just please Man, you have allowed me to please God. I’m convinced you will be blessed for that.
Granddaddy Edwards, who has read every single last one of my books, thank you for your undying love and support. I’ll love you always and you’ll always hold the record for being the only one in the family who has read every single work I’ve ever published (although my mother-in-law, Gwen Marsh, is running neck and neck ;-)
Miss Darlene, you bought a copy of the very first book I ever wrote when it was printed on 8 1/2 x 11 sheets of paper. Years later you have still continued to support me beyond anything I could ever imagine. I don’t know how long you have been saved . . . but you have always been an angel to me.
I must thank my dedicated reading team, who gave me their honest feedback before the book ever even reached my editor: Earth, Trini, and Shelia, your loving criticism was well received. Thank you for your kind and uplifting words, and more importantly, for supporting what I do. I love you all. Vanessa, my girl, you know God used you to help make sure that His Word didn’t get lost in any unnecessary verbiage or drama. I can’t thank you enough. And I can’t forget Locksie of Arc Book Club. Girl, you are brutal, but honest. That’s why you are highly respected for what you do. And thanks for letting me use your name (in both my books). Hope I did you proud.
To the Urban Christian authors, each and every one of you has motivated me through your own works. Let’s continue to lift each other in prayer as God continues to show us favor for being obedient and doing His will by ministering His Word through the written word.
I’m going to bring this acknowledgement full circle and acknowledge last, but not least, my editor, Martha Weber. You know you have a reputation in the Urban family for those fifteen and a half pages of editorial notes you produce; but God is simply using you to pull the writer out of writers. Nineteen published works later, I can finally say that, thanks to you, Martha Weber, I’m a writer!
Chapter
1
“God ain’t into threesomes!” Mary scolded her niece.
Locksie looked up at her aunt in shock. “Aunt Mary,” she blushed.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, girl,” Mary said as she joined Locksie at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee in hand. She placed one in front of Locksie and the other to her peanut-butter-colored lips, which were an identical shade to her flawless skin complexion.
“Get my mind out of the gutter?” She folded her arms.
“Yes, because I’m not talking about that kind of threesome; the sexual kind,” Mary explained. “I’m talking about intimacy, but not the type of intimacy your filthy mind has managed to wander off to.”
Locksie chuckled as she took a sip of her hot beverage. “Well, what did you expect me to think? You’re sitting here mentioning God, threesomes and intimacy all in the same breath. I didn’t know ol’ Jehovah got down like that.” Locksie chuckled once again, but could tell by the way her aunt’s eyebrows began to close in tight that she wasn’t finding the humor in her comment.
“What I’m trying to say is that God wants to be intimate with you; not sexually, but spiritually.” Mary looked her niece in the eyes as her voice softened and she hugged herself. “God wants to pull you in close. He wants you to rest on His bosom so that He can whisper in your ear the answer to all your problems. He wants to get so intimate with you that your soul intertwines with His.” She entangled her fingers together for demonstration. “But like I said,” she got serious again, “God ain’t into threesomes. And He ain’t into no quickies either.”
Locksie threw her hands up. “Now, how do you expect me to get my mind out of the gutter if you keep putting it there? Now you’re sitting here talking about God and quickies.”
“Will you just listen already, nasty girl?” Mary said, playfully spanking her niece on the back of her hand.
“Ouch!”
“That didn’t hurt . . . Now listen. When I said quickies, I meant those quick little prayers to God people sometimes squeeze into their busy schedule here and there, usually while the television is on or while they’re sitting in their car listening to the radio. If you want to get intimate with God, it’s just got to be you and Him—not you, Him, and Zenith. Not you, Him and Hot 107. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Aunt Mary,” Locksie said, rolling her eyes, signaling that she had just about had enough of this conversation.
For the life of Locksie, she never could understand why she tolerated her Aunt Mary always preaching about God when she couldn’t tolerate her own mother doing it. Maybe it was because she was older now and wasn’t actually being forced to sit there and listen. When Locksie was young, her mother had robbed her of choice by making God and church mandatory, instilling a fear of hell and damnation in her mind. Aunt Mary hadn’t used God and church to rob her of a normal childhood like Locksie felt her mother had done.
Mary shook her head and looked up to the heavens.
Locksie giggled at her aunt’s dramatics. She always enjoyed having coffee with her favorite aunt—her only aunt—every morning before she headed in to work at the local Fiesta hair salon she managed. Although at the fifty-year mark in age, Aunt Mary could definitely keep up with her younger niece. A volunteer aerobics instructor for the Columbus Parks and Recreation Department, Mary’s physique put Locksie’s to shame. Not that Locksie was out of shape or anything; just not as in shape as Mary’s four feet, eleven-inch petite, muscular frame.
With a five feet, seven-and-one-half-inch frame, Locksie’s 158 pounds spread out evenly as not to make her look frumpy with the excess ten pounds that it wouldn’t exactly hurt her to lose. But it was only in the buff that those extra few pounds made themselves known. Under the black smock she was required to wear at work, her body wasn’t visible at all; only her pretty brown face that always bore flawlessly applied make-up.
A Mary Kay representative on the side, Locksie made sure to always be a walking campaign ad for the cosmetic line whose products seemed to be catering more and more to African Americans. Locksie sold at least one of her products daily, even if it was nothing more than a tube of lip gloss. That was a personal goal she had set for herself a year ago when she first paid the $100 fee to become a consultant.
“You’re worried about me?” Locksie asked Mary. “You’re the one talking about threesomes and quickies. Either God is off the chain, or you need to get you some.” Locksie laughed, dodging another swat from her aunt.
“Cut it out. You know what I’m trying to say and you’re just mad because I’m speaking the truth. Every morning you come over here with the same old complaints about you and Dawson.” Dawson was Locksie’s live-in boyfriend of three years. “And how something is missing from your relationship. Well, I’ll tell you what’s missing: God is.” Mary rolled her eyes. “Over there living in sin together in that big ol’ house of yours.” Mary began to mumble under her breath as she took a sip from her cup.
“So how should I be living in sin, Aunt Mary? By my lonesome?”
“Damn right! By yourself! If you gon’ choose to live in sin, why drag somebody else with you?”
“I see with all that going to church and praying you be doing, that ol’ cursin’ demon ain’t let loose of your tongue yet,” Locksie said sarcastically with a chuckle, sucking her teeth as she put her cup to her lips and swallowed. She realized that this was probably another reason why she could tolerate her aunt over her mother. Aunt Mary was funny. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that although she was a Christian, she wasn’t a perfect Christian; she still had stuff of her own to be delivered from. She wasn’t telling everybody else they were going to hell, which is exactly what Locksie’s mother used to always tell her.
Mary, on the other hand, knew that approach was everything. And although she admired how her sister had tried to instill the goodness of the Lord in her niece’s heart, she couldn’t wholeheartedly agree with her past methods.
“I’m working on that cursing thing,” Mary admitted, “and I’m believing in God to deliver me from it; truly I am. But never you mind me.” Mary pointed at her niece. “Think you slick trying to change the subject. Like I said before . . .” She took a sip of her coffee and then continued. “God ain’t into no threesomes. It can’t be you, Him and Dawson; you, Him and your job; you, Him and nobody or nothing else for that matter. God wants you to submit to Him and Him only. He wants your mind, your body, your heart and your soul. And once He has that, you never know. Your assignment may be to bring Dawson’s soul to Him. Or your test could be to let Dawson go. All I’m saying is just worry a little less about your man, and focus a little more on the man.”
Locksie tilted her head and poked out her lips as if to suggest that Mary was overexaggerating Locksie’s concerns about Dawson. “Stop adding yeast to my feelings about Dawson. You’re making it bigger than it seems. Besides, he’s my man; I’m supposed to please him. And I don’t worry any more about my man than the next woman worries about hers.”
“Yes, you do, and you know I ain’t lying,” Mary corrected her. “You come over here wanting me to teach you how to cook a certain dish, trying to make your man happy. If it isn’t about cooking, you need me to help you sew up his torn britches. You’ve even come over here asking me to help you pin up your hair before y’all go out. But you’ve never once,” Mary put her index finger up, “not once, asked me to help you or teach you how to do something that is going to make God happy.”
Locksie let out a sigh, wondering how was it that lately Mary had managed to drag God into every conversation they had. In a way, Locksie understood where her aunt was coming from, but Locksie couldn’t see God; however, she could see Dawson. Locksie couldn’t hear God. She could hear Dawson. She didn’t want to waste her time trying to please some man up in the sky who might not even be real. Why should she, when she had Dawson right there on Earth, in the flesh?
“There ain’t a doubt in my mind that pleasing Dawson isn’t going to be a complete
waste of time,” Locksie reasoned. “Besides, God ain’t struck me down with a bolt of lightening yet, so obviously He’s cool with how I’m living. The wages of sin is death, right?” Locksie looked herself up and down and then wiggled her fingers. “Well, I ain’t dead, so I must be doing something right.”
Mary just shook her head. “Well, I know the last thing my Heavenly Father wants me to do is sit here with you and get into a verbal battle about who He is and what He can do. Although I’m sure He appreciates my efforts, He doesn’t need me to.” Mary winked at Locksie, lifted her cup to her mouth, and while gazing at Locksie over the rim of her cup, said, “He’ll show you Himself.” After taking one last sip, Mary stood up and began to chuckle. “Yes, in-deedy. God don’t need me, or any other man for that matter, to tell you who He is or what He can do . . . He’ll show you Himself . . . and it’s all in a matter of time.”
Chapter 2
“Umm, baby,” Locksie said as she rolled off Dawson and onto her side. “That felt so good it must be a sin.” All Locksie wanted to do was bask in the arms of her lover. But she couldn’t. It was Sunday morning, and she had something important to do.
Dawson rolled over behind Locksie. Intertwined, their matching brown skin made it hard to tell where hers began and his ended. Dawson pulled Locksie’s brown-with-honey-highlights, shoulder-length hair behind her double-pierced ear and then pressed his thick lips against it. In his deep, baritone voice he whispered, “Then since we’re just two sinners going to hell anyway, let’s make it worthwhile.” He began nibbling on Locksie’s ear.