Boaz Brown 2: No Weapon Formed by Michelle Stimpson & Karen McCollum Rodgers & Vicki Prather

Author:Michelle Stimpson & Karen McCollum Rodgers & Vicki Prather [Stimpson, Michelle & Rodgers, Karen McCollum & Prather, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Christian Fiction, Christian, Fiction, United States, African American, Religion & Spirituality, Christian Books & Bibles, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 1499642865
Amazon: B00KH6QK56
Published: 2014-05-19T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

When the headaches came back a few months later, Stelson didn’t tell me. He didn’t have to. Walking past me and the kids without acknowledging us when he came in from work was all the clue I needed. Not to mention he’d started texting me rather than returning phone calls.

Ain’t this somethin’?

I sent Terrie an email the week before Christmas break, reminding her to keep me in the loop. My in-laws usually joined us for Thanksgiving, but he had told his mother about the headaches and she’d decided it best not to come up this time around. Normally, I would have welcomed a nice, quiet Thanksgiving at home. The last thing I wanted this holiday, however, was some alone time with my five year old, my 9 month old, and my grouchy husband.

Attending church on Sundays gave me a slight reprieve; although we couldn’t sit in our regular spots because Stelson needed to put distance between himself and the loud speakers at the front of the sanctuary.

The one thing I had to look forward to for Christmas was Peaches and her family coming home. Their flight arrived on the twenty-third so I’d had plenty of time to get fed up with the Brown household between Seth’s school break and Stelson’s decreased business hours due to the holiday.

On the way to Peaches’ parents’ house, I darn-near gave Stelson a lecture about how to behave. Told him if he couldn’t act cordial, I didn’t want him to come.

“You think I’m a heathen?” he defended himself.

“No. I just…don’t want another argument.”

“What do you think you’re starting right now?” he questioned.

I sighed. I was tired of going in circles with this man. He knew he wasn’t himself, and yet he expected everyone else to adjust their expectations about normal, everyday common courtesy due to his frequent headaches.

“All I’m saying is, if you are in too much pain and you don’t think you’ll be good company, you shouldn’t go.”

“If I stayed home with every headache, I’d never leave the house.”

We certainly can’t have that happening, buddy.

We had gone to another doctor who’d tested for allergies. Another one tested for pinched nerves. All to no avail. After the third specialist, we were referred to a psychiatrist to find out if Stelson’s problem was psychosomatic.

He had been incensed. Insulted that doctors were insinuating the pain was all in his head, mind over matter.

After seeing all those physicians, I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore. I knew Stelson was hurting physically. But with so many physical causes ruled out, perhaps the root was psychological. I didn’t want to think that maybe my husband was having a nervous breakdown. And yet his attitude…

Christmas Eve was the first time I’d seen my best friend in almost three years. We held on to one another for dear life. Or at least I did. “Girl, girl, girl! I could kiss you!”

“Don’t get carried away,” she joked.

While Peaches and I continued to hug, our husbands shook hands. After properly greeting Peaches’ parents,

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