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Sex in the Sanctuary Page 8
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Page 8
“Hey, Hope! I like that outfit. You’re looking real nice today.”
“Well, thanks, Terron. I hope that routine you’re choreographing impresses me as much as I’m obviously impressing you.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Terron drawled while effortlessly executing an intricately woven series of hip-hop steps before gliding forward and spinning to a stop right in front of her. “It’s gonna blow the roof off, ’cause it’s off the ska-zizzy!” Hope didn’t miss the quick glance toward the one he was really trying to impress, little Miss Leah, nor did she miss the pout on Selena’s face. I guess there were two somebodies who liked Mr. T.
“Now, I need one of you to make, say, twenty copies of this and the other to put them inside these folders.” Hope reached for the keys that were somehow buried at the bottom of her purse, even though she’d just thrown them in there. Pulling them out, Hope turned to Leah. “Here’s the key to the office. Be sure to turn the light off and lock the door when you’re finished.”
Leah and Selena started toward the office, their heads together in a Terron-induced conspiracy. “Thanks, girls. And hurry up! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
Hope felt a bit stressed but pleased with how things were going so far. She had been able to contact Righteous Rebel’s management, and they had worked out a midnight concert for the youth to be held in a city auditorium Friday night. In addition to the debut of Heaven’s Hip-hoppers, Hope had lined up a gospel singing group called Yadah, which meant praise in Hebrew, comprised of three lovely and talented ladies from a church in Kansas City. She’d also confirmed the participation of Musical Messengers, the gospel jazz group. Rounding out the evening would be the Angels of Hope dance group, a popular and funny Christian comedian from Chicago with an award-winning monologue called “A Praying Woman,” and Hope’s own dramatic spoken word presentation she’d composed to kick off the evening and entitled “Joyful.” It was inspired by the penned verses of her favorite biblical character David, with whom she felt much kinship, and his now famous Psalm 100. As if someone had turned on a tape player, the words began swirling in her head, and she bobbed slightly to the beat, even as she headed toward the group of girls sitting quietly in a circle near the middle of the basketball court:
God is awesome, in all of His ways,
For all of our days, we should give Him the praise
So every man and woman, all girls and boys
Make a joyful noise, make a joyful noise…
“What are you bobbing to, Miss Hope-a-letta?” That would be Miss Get-On-Your-Last-Nerve Carmelita Lopez, whose all-encompassing eyes didn’t miss much. She had a mouth on her but was nevertheless a good kid from a not-always-so-good home. In fact, Carmelita had led her own mother to the Lord after she’d come to one of the Youth Night Holy Ghost parties a year ago. She’d given her life to God that very night, and the church had since become her second home. One Friday night several months later, her mom had come to find out what all the hoopla from her daughter was about. As they rode the bus home, Carmelita had asked her mother if she could lead her to the Lord.
“What will I have to do?” her mother had inquired in a hesitant, skeptical tone.
“Just repeat this prayer that we learned in class Wednesday night.” Carmelita had proceeded to say the prayer taken from 1 John 10:9–10 that she’d learned in their youth Bible study. Her mom hadn’t thought much about the exercise at the time, but the next day, she got a call from the IRS stating she’d been overcharged on her taxes two years prior and they were sending her a check, with interest. It was then Rosa felt there was a connection between her repeating the words with her daughter and the IRS admitting a mistake—a modern-day miracle. Then and there she decided to take a closer look at this “church thing” in which her daughter was so involved.
“That’s for me to know and you to hear later,” Hope answered in delayed reaction to Carmelita’s question while easing down into the circle the girls had opened upon her arrival. “Have you guys prayed already?”
“Yes, we were just waiting on you so we could show you the dance we’ve put together for the last verse.”
“Okay, ladies, show me what you’ve got.” And with that the girls got up, the CD was turned on and the soul-soothing sounds of Nicole Muller’s “Redeemed” filled the auditorium.
“Did you see how tight that girl’s pants were? It’s a shame before God.” Margie Stokes, or Sistah Almighty, was clucking her tongue and shaking her head in righteous indignation. “Somebody should take that girl aside and talk to her about what kind of dress is becoming in the house of the Lord!”
“Just scandalous how these women parade around for these menfolks,” Elsie Wanthers, Sistah Alrighty, replied. “The stench of sin is about to stank up the church!”
“Bringing that dancing into the church. I bet you any ’mount of money that girl got her eye on our beloved pastor.”
“They all do, the hot-blooded hussies.” Sistah Wanthers cut in. “Poor Queen Bee’s got all she can do to keep leeches like her away from poor Pastor King.”
“And you can see how she’s trying to worm her way into his path with this ‘youth ministry.’ She ain’t fooling nobody. You got to get up early in the morning to pull one over on Sistah Marge. Mighty early!”
Just then Pastor King’s black Mercedes sedan pulled into his parking spot. Sistahs Almighty and Alrighty stopped their gossip long enough to watch him turn the car around so it faced forward. They continued to stare as he gathered some things from his backseat before exiting. Not a word passed between the sisters as he stepped out of the car, grabbed his suit jacket, slipped it on and straightened his tie in the window’s reflection before picking up his briefcase and heading in their direction. As he neared them, he took off his sunglasses and blessed them with one of his brilliant smiles.
“How do, Pastor?” Sistah “Almighty” Stokes gushed as she grabbed both him and his briefcase in a motherly hug.
“Praise the Lord, sistahs!”
“The Lord be praised, Pastor King,” Sistah Alrighty Wanthers murmured softly, batting her eyelashes and fanning the side of her face with her right hand without being aware she was doing so.
“How’s everything, y’all all right?”
“Blessed, Pastor!” Sistah Almighty bellowed.
“Blessed of God in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, bless his Holy name,” Sistah Alrighty exclaimed.
“Good, good.”
Pastor King excused himself and continued into the sanctuary. Sistah Almighty and Sistah Alrighty turned involuntarily and silently praised God for the heavenly way that tailored suit hugged his back and nipped his waist and grabbed his thick thighs just enough, but not too much. Neither woman said a word, but Sistah Alrighty wondered if it had gotten hotter outside or if it was just her. Sistah Almighty turned hastily and followed behind the pastor to offer her assistance in any way he needed, pausing just long enough to bid Sistah Alrighty a hasty “adieu.”
Sistah Alrighty mumbled, “I do, too.” Sistah Almighty wasn’t the only one who wanted to help the pastor. Sistah Wanthers clucked her tongue and followed Sistah Stokes inside.
Was she being paranoid?
Only a married woman who’d walked in the shoes that Tai now wore would understand how she could feel so alone in a crowded, noisy room. Timothy and Tabitha were both talking a mile a minute about a science fair project their class was building. Princess was busy making sure the twins understood how unimportant their project was compared to her need for a new outfit for the upcoming Spring Fling Day that her class was spending at the local amusement park. There must be some boy she’s trying to impress, Tai thought, almost amused that Princess could not fathom the notion that Tai had herself been fifteen once upon a time. Not so long ago that she’d forgotten what that age felt like.
“So what’s his name?” she asked casually while scooping out a small helping of lasagna. Tai was determined not to regain the ten pounds she’d lost s
ince she and Mama Max began exercising two months ago.
“Mom! Why do you always think boys are involved when I ask you for stuff?”
“Because you’re fifteen. Boys are always involved when you’re fifteen.”
“I don’t got time for none of these boys around here. They’re stupid.”
“Have time, not got time. How did you get a ‘B’ in English with that grammar?”
“Mom! We were right in the middle of telling you about our project,” Tabitha whined with the practiced skill of the most seasoned actress.
“Yeah,” Timothy piped in. “And that’s way more important than Princess’s boyfriends!”
The beginnings of World War III began to rumble at this last comment, and Tai was in the process of calming the soldiers on both sides when King walked in.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?”
Immediately everything was quiet and in order, something that happened frequently when King entered a room.
“Hey, Daddy!” Princess sang, jumping up from her chair and hugging him tightly. No matter who may come afterward, King Wesley Brook was definitely her first love.
“Hey! How’s my Princess?” No doubt, the love was mutual.
“You’re home early,” Tai stated, rising automatically to put another place setting at the table. She went into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, opened the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of tea, setting it down beside his plate. She also grabbed the ranch dressing, his favorite, and placed it on the table beside the low-cal Italian, not her favorite but her fate, and Russian, the children’s choice.
“Yeah, we finished up early, so thankfully I am getting to spend the evening with some of my favorite people.”
Princess sat back down at the table. King leaned down to rub and kiss the top of Timothy and Tabitha’s heads respectively before he took his place at the head of the table. He didn’t hug, kiss or rub Tai’s head.
“So how’s everything for the conference coming?” Tai asked, taking a small bite of lasagna.
“So smooth it’s almost scary,” King replied, heaping a huge helping of his favorite Italian cuisine onto his plate. “Especially Youth Night, it’s gonna be awesome.”
Tai’s fork stopped midair. Suddenly the lasagna noodles became thick in her mouth, and the cheese seemed to lodge itself in her throat. She took a huge gulp of tea and swallowed quickly and then a couple more sips before putting her glass down.
King noticed Tai’s reaction and mentally kicked himself. How could he have slipped like that and brought up anything to do with Hope? Too late, though, the kids took the topic and ran with it.
“Ooh, Daddy, is Righteous Rebel gonna do the concert?” the twins implored.
“Is he going to sing ‘Holy Ghost High’ or ‘Number One Lover’?” Princess turned to her mother, thinking of her own performance. “Mom, you’re going to love the Heaven’s Hip-hoppers. Our steps are tight!” Tai just smiled.
King smiled, too, proud of the way his children embraced God and how enthusiastic they were in their service to Him. He glanced at Tai before answering their question.
“Well, don’t tell anybody,” he started conspiratorially, buttering his third piece of Italian bread. “But…yes! Righteous Rebel is going to do the concert!”
The twins high-fived each other, and Princess grabbed her father’s hand. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so excited, that’s gonna be great!”
“I’m gonna be front row, center,” Timothy proclaimed, as if there were any doubt as to where he as a child of the church’s first family would sit on such a night.
“And that’s not all,” King continued as he stabbed a large chunk of lettuce, then a tomato and finally a piece of broccoli onto his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. “You guys remember that CD I brought home last week, the group that sounds a lot like Destiny’s Child called Yadah?” And then to Tai, “This is good, baby.”
“Don’t tell me they’re gonna be there,” Princess moaned, all too aware of the female competition, even though those girls were almost out of high school and one was in her freshman year of college. “Mom, now I need to get two new outfits! Mom! Are you listening to me?”
Tai nodded in the affirmative, but in fact, she hadn’t been listening. She’d been trying to reconcile her feelings of anger with the ones of happiness that were swirling around the table. Was she really just being paranoid and horribly unfair to this Hope girl? Her children obviously adored Hope, as did those in the youth and young adult groups she directed. Sistah Stokes had voiced some concerns when Hope first came to the church, but that may have been in part because Sistah Stokes remembered King’s old flame Tootie and her cat suits. And how could King just sit there and go on and on about his love interest, or should she say lust interest, right in front of her and the children like that? Was she being paranoid? And if so, why couldn’t she shake this feeling of doom that rested in the pit of her stomach, low and heavy like tonight’s lasagna?
Tai continued to ruminate on these thoughts as she prepared for bed that evening. King had already showered and was in his office downstairs. Princess had cleaned the kitchen and was talking on the phone, her favorite pastime, and the twins were playing a video game. She sprayed on a generous amount of jasmine-scented body mist and sat on the commode seat, rubbing baby oil on her heels and toes. She tried to remember exactly when this feeling of imminent doom came to pay her a visit, like an unwelcome distant cousin, and refused to leave. She reached for her cotton nightgown hanging on the bathroom door, then opted for her black, floor-length negligee instead. What was she doing? Was she actually going to try and seduce her husband, a man she felt sure was cheating on her? And maybe with the youth’s assistant director no less?
Tai carried the bottle of jasmine water from the bathroom to the bed and, pulling back the sheets, sprayed a liberal amount on them, including the pillows. She hit the nozzle a few more times as she turned the bottle once more on herself, one on both temple points, between the breasts and a quick hit between the legs before recapping the bottle and setting it on the table beside her. She reached behind her to the bed’s headboard, turned on the radio and her favorite station, Oldies 91.5. Barry White’s voice reached out seductively and promised Tai he couldn’t get enough of her love. From your lips to King’s ears, Tai longingly thought.
Tai lay down on crisp, scented sheets as the cool May breeze blew through barely opened balcony doors. She reached over and stroked King’s side of the bed. She still loved him, even after all she’d been through with him, unconditionally, like Christ. No wonder the cross was the symbol of ultimate sacrifice. Because to survive a marriage, one had better be willing to get crucified.
King sat silently reading the newspaper in his study. He’d come here as a means of escape; it was an unwritten rule that he not be bothered when he was in his office. Being around Tai and the kids was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He felt as guilty as he did out of control. The phone rang. It was Derrick.
“Hey, man,” King answered cheerfully, thankful to be distracted from his thoughts. “What’s up?”
“I was calling to ask you the same question,” Derrick said meaningfully.
Dang, King thought with a frown. He wasn’t going to get away from his thoughts after all. He tried to sound nonchalant. “Same ole, same ole. Everything’s cool.”
“Is it?”
“Look, man,” King said, his body tensing. “If you called to make a point, get to it.”
Derrick heard the tension in King’s voice and knew things were definitely not cool. He could tell King didn’t want to talk, had tried to throw up a wall of attitude. But he wasn’t backing down. This was what friends did, looked out for each other—especially when one saw the other heading for a cliff, blindfolded. King was letting pussy blind him. Derrick wasn’t going to let him go out like that.
“Look, dog,” he said in a tone of camaraderie. “I’m on your side. And my point’s been made. Me and Viv want it to be you
and Tai; that position is not going to change. But I didn’t call to lecture. I called because I care about you, man, you and your family. You know that.”
King closed his eyes, relaxed. “I know, man, I appreciate it. It’s crazy right now. I know I’ve got to handle this, eventually.”
“You and Tai talk more about it?”
“We talk around it. She thinks it’s this girl at church. I told her no.”
“But she knows it’s somebody.”
“I haven’t lied to her. She asked me if I was seeing the woman, sleeping with her. I told her I wasn’t.”
“Isn’t that lying by omission?”
“Look, man, don’t get technical. She asked a question, I answered it.”
“What if she asks you point-blank if you’re seeing somebody?”
“I’ll tell her yeah. I’ve got eyes, I see everybody.”
Derrick laughed. “She will not be amused.”
King grinned, appreciating the levity. “You’re probably right.”
“You know I’m right. She’s probably ready to kick serious butt as it is.”
King’s grin faded. “I deserve it.”
They talked a bit further. King agreed to keep him posted on what was happening and thanked him for the call. He hung up the phone, stood and began slowly pacing the floor in his office, carelessly arranging and then rearranging the stacks of work on his desk. What was he going to do? How did he get into this situation in the first place?
He remembered the first time he saw his other woman, all cute and bubbly, full of energy and life. Their conversation had been innocent enough: How are you? Fine, and you? But the message in their eyes was unmistakable. She’d given him her number. He’d given her a business card. They’d talked on the phone a few times. Again, just general, getting-to-know-you stuff. She wanted to know all about him. Where are you from? Kansas, born and raised. How old are you? Forty-four. What type of music do you like? Gospel, jazz, ’60s and ’70s R&B. And then more talks on the phone. More questions, more shared information. What are your goals? To build a Kingdom enterprise. Where do you see yourself in five years? At the head of a ministerial campus, complete with schools, day care centers, business offices, restaurants. Has anybody ever told you how incredibly intelligent you are? Tai had but King didn’t remember it, or if he did, he chose not to share the information. Then he’d asked her out to lunch. Hey, it was the middle of the day so how bad could it be? Pretty bad. They’d met at the Crown Center Shopping Complex. The one anchored by the Crown Center Hotel. Real bad, sinful even. She’d suggested they take a stroll after eating, to walk off their lunch. He was the one who noticed the suggestive teddies in the boutique window. She was the one who suggested that he buy her one and let her try it on in one of the rooms next door. He was the one who could have said no. She was the one who hoped he wouldn’t. They made it to the room. He never saw her in the teddy.