A Preacher’s Passion Page 9

  Princess took a deep breath and with one word turned the page of her life to a new chapter. “Yes,” she said softly, and then with more confidence. “Yes, Kel, I’ll do it.” Princess cut the parental umbilical cord in that moment: I’m grown and can do what I want. I’m not Mama and Daddy’s little Princess anymore. The quicker everybody realizes that, the better.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Viv,” Tai said sincerely. “But the boy is grown, and he comes from a very different background. I know it’s Derrick’s house and all but—”

  “You’re preaching to the choir,” Vivian interrupted. “Me and Derrick have very different views on this. I mean, the boy just came to live with us six months ago. He’s never attended church regularly. My idea was to slowly incorporate church into his lifestyle. But Derrick wouldn’t budge. Stubborn, manly ego; that’s all this is about.”

  “So where is he?”

  “Kelvin? He got an apartment. Janeé finally shared that much with us after we failed to hear from Kelvin all weekend. She said he was fine, that he wasn’t mad at Derrick, and that he would be in touch with us.”

  “Sounds like his mother is okay with him living on his own.”

  “Actually, I think she’s relieved he’s no longer living with us. Don’t get me wrong, I think she wanted Derrick and Kelvin to get to know one another better, and to develop some sort of relationship. But I don’t think she was ever totally comfortable with the idea of his living here. She never said anything; it’s just the feeling I got.”

  “Hmm. So he’s staying in an apartment all by himself?”

  “No, Janeé said it’s him and a friend from his poli-sci class, somebody he knows from high school.”

  “Hmph.”

  “I’m just gonna pray for him, Tai, that’s all I can do. He’s a good kid, and we’re going to miss him being around. Especially D2, he’s really proud to have Kelvin as his older brother. I plan to invite him and his new roommate to Sunday dinner when he calls, and I’ll ask Princess to come too.”

  “How do they get along—Princess and Kelvin?”

  “Okay, I guess, but aside from the time y’all were here, they’ve only been over once at the same time. Kelvin had some girl with him and Princess had a cell phone glued to her ear. She still call herself in love with Rafael?”

  “I guess so. El isn’t at church much since he started college at KU. But last time we spoke, he talked about seeing Princess over the holidays. I guess it could be worse. At least I know who she’s seeing and at least if they’re screwing—which I think they are ’cause they’re all googoo-eyed over each other—it’s only a few times a year.”

  Tai sighed, thinking how she’d been just a little older than Princess when she got pregnant with Michael, her oldest child. “I definitely need to have a talk with her when she comes home for Thanksgiving because, trust, I’m not ready to be a grandmother.”

  “I’m ’bout to pull over and give you the business…. ooh baby, can I get a witness…” The sounds of T-Pain oozed out of the speakers as about twenty partygoers grooved to the beat. Princess melded into Kelvin, her hands around his waist, his hands gripping her backside. Couples bumped and grinded around the room, while others smoked blunts and/or drank the Vodka-laced punch Princess and Joni had prepared.

  “Here,” Joni said, giving Princess a partially smoked joint.

  Princess took a hit and passed the joint to Kelvin. “Naw, I’m good,” Kelvin said, continuing to dance. Princess passed the joint over to Joni’s boyfriend, Brandon, who had attended school with Kelvin in Santa Barbara. He and Joni were now roommates with Kelvin and Princess and as Kelvin had predicted, their place was party central.

  Aside from the creative story she’d had to invent for her mother, Princess and Kelvin’s moving in together two weeks ago had gone quite smoothly. Kelvin’s uncle-friend, Geoff, had provided a nice, roomy, furnished, two-bedroom condo less than two miles from the UCLA campus, and had covered rent and utilities for the rest of the school year. A week later, Brandon and Joni suggested they all become roommates, and agreed to provide food, transportation, and recreational necessities for Kelvin and Princess in exchange for the second bedroom. So far it was a perfect arrangement for these best friends.

  It also helped Princess with the story she told Tai: that Joni’s family owned the condo and Joni had asked Princess to become her roommate. She’d rationalized the move to her mother saying the room and board monies her scholarship provided could now be used for study aids, field trips, and to supplement the small check she received from her part-time job. Princess told her mother she wanted to be independent, that she liked having found a way to save her parents some money. When Tai asked Princess about the secrecy of the move and her, the mother, finding out about it because of a disconnected phone number, Princess simply said she’d been too busy moving to call home, a story that Tai told Princess she didn’t believe for one minute.

  “You think I was born yesterday,” Tai had said when Princess used a loaded schedule as the reason she hadn’t told Tai about the move. “What’s his name, Princess?”

  “Who?” Princess had asked innocently.

  “Are you telling me it’s just you and Joni in the apartment—there are no guys staying with you? Remember, I was your age when I got pregnant with Michael. Things haven’t changed that much since then.”

  “Well, uh, Joni’s boyfriend comes over a lot. His name is Brandon.”

  “And what about you? You expect me to believe you’re so in love with Rafael that you’re not talking to anybody, not attracted to any of the fine boys on that big campus, not even a little?”

  Princess laughed. “Well, I do kinda like this one boy.”

  “And are you kinda having sex with this boy?”

  “Mom!”

  “Princess, it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it but I want you to remember the things I’ve told you about abstinence and safe sex. I believed you when you said you hadn’t slept with Rafael, but that conversation was a year ago.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “Let me finish. You’re a grown woman, full of life, hormones raging, wanting to spread your wings and try new things. I understand that. I was a lot like you at your age. I know what it’s like to be so in love you’re willing to do anything for the man. And believe me, whoever this dude is will ask you to do anything, and everything. All I’m saying is don’t be stupid, don’t give yourself to just anybody and whatever you do, don’t mess around and get pregnant. Don’t get me wrong—you know how much I love your brother, and how much I love King. I don’t regret my life. But who knows what would have happened and how my life would be different if I hadn’t had a child at such a young age?

  “You’re smart, beautiful, and have so much to offer the world. I just want you to be smart when it comes to men, baby, okay? Wait for the man who is willing to give you his name, or at least as much as he’s getting from you…your whole heart.”

  That’s right, I’m giving my baby everything, Princess thought as she walked toward her and Kelvin’s bedroom. The party was winding down; only six or seven people remained. Just as well. The smoke, drink, and grinding against Kelvin all night had made her hot for her man. She was going to give it to him every way he wanted.

  Princess neared the laundry room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. She’d almost passed it when she heard a sound. She almost ignored it, but then she heard it again and stopped. A bumping sound, and as she walked to the door and placed her ear against it, a low moan. Princess jerked the door open. The sight that greeted her was Kelvin’s smooth chocolate ass with a pair of café au lait legs clutched tightly just above it.

  “Kelvin! What the fuck is going on?”

  The scene was obvious, but Kelvin still used one of the most popular answers given when caught in the wrong: “Nothing.” Then under his breath, “Damn.”

  Meanwhile, Fawn, the woman who’d been moaning as Kelvin pounded her, pulled down her minidress and tried to scurry past Pr
incess.

  Princess grabbed Fawn’s weave. “How you gonna come up in my house and fuck my man?!” Princess pulled on the weave, tried to knock Fawn to the ground.

  Fawn struck back, grabbing Princess’s halter top. “If he’s your man, why is he with me? Let me go, tramp!”

  Princess ignored the perky 32A’s that had popped out of her halter. A tousle ensued, the two women rolling on the floor of the small hallway.

  “A fight, y’all,” someone yelled from the living room.

  Kelvin grabbed Princess and Brandon grabbed Fawn, pulling her toward the door. “Party’s over for you, mami,” he said before opening the door and pushing her out, tossing her purse to the ground beside her. “And don’t think your boy ain’t gonna hear about you creepin’.”

  Whatever comment Fawn said was swallowed up by the sound of the slamming door.

  “You were fuckin’ her, I saw you!” Princess screamed. She and Kelvin were in their bedroom and Princess was livid. “How could you do this, Kelvin? And in our own house, my house. This place is in my name.”

  “I wasn’t, we were just messing around!”

  “Yeah, I saw your messing around.”

  Kelvin was embarrassed that he’d gotten caught, knew he was taking a big chance by making out with Fawn in the laundry room. But that had been part of the excitement, the illicitness of it all. Plus Fawn was so fine. She’d been coming on to him all night, had been after him ever since she started dating his teammate. Fawn always told Kelvin that the only reason she was with Tyson was because she couldn’t be with him. Tonight she’d proved that she wasn’t just talk, and even Princess being upset didn’t dampen his desire for finishing what he and Fawn had started.

  Princess continued to vent. “Kelvin. You’re not gonna make me a fool. You either want to be with these hos or you want to be with me!”

  “Oh, you got ultimatums? It’s like that now?”

  Princess sat on the bed, tears beginning to flow silently down her face.

  “Look,” Kelvin said, going to sit beside her. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have disrespected you like that. That girl don’t mean nothing to me. I’m just high and shit and, well, I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” He tried to put his arm around Princess.

  “Don’t,” Princess hissed. “Don’t even think about touching me right now. You need to go wash that girl’s stank off your dick.”

  “I told you we didn’t—”

  “Oh, so you had your pants down ’cause you were getting ready to do laundry? Whatever, Kelvin, I’m not sleeping with you. Now are you going to move to the couch, or am I?”

  18

  Bi the Way

  “You still haven’t told him?” Hope asked. “He’s the father, Stacy. He has a right to know.”

  “And he will know, just as soon as the time is right.”

  “Why are you waiting?”

  Stacy shrugged.

  “Because you’re not sure,” Hope answered softly. “Because as much as you want it to, you’re not convinced that this baby will make the difference you hope it will.”

  Stacy’s eyes welled with tears as she nodded yes.

  Hope looked at her still-skinny friend. She was carrying the baby well. It might be another two months before she started showing. She didn’t want to judge what Stacy had done, but the moment Stacy had confided in her, the pregnancy became Hope’s business. She wasn’t going to be dishonest in how she felt about the situation.

  “Is it Bo?” Hope questioned, wanting to talk about the pink elephant that was always in the room where Darius and Stacy were concerned. Hope felt it might be time to tell Stacy what she knew. She prayed for guidance. “You know, if there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. What would you do if, you know, there is truth to the rumors about him and Darius?”

  “There’s no truth to them,” Stacy shot back. “And even if there is, it will all be over once I give Darius the one thing Bo can’t.” She patted her stomach for the confirmation her voice didn’t quite convey.

  “I hope you’re right,” Hope answered.

  “I don’t believe it anyway,” Stacy said, trying to convince herself yet again. “Gay men don’t screw women the way Darius does me.”

  “But he might be bi, Stacy. I never told you this but Frieda—”

  Stacy held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Hope. Whatever Frieda thinks she knows is probably nothing I haven’t already heard. Darius loves me; I know he’ll do the right thing when he hears about his child.”

  Even though both Stacy and Hope had lost their appetites, they took a moment and tried to enjoy the delicious Thai dishes before them.

  Stacy barely touched her food. Hope’s life fascinated her; the only woman Stacy knew who had actually gotten who she wanted. Cy had been one of LA’s most eligible bachelors, and definitely KCCC’s prize, until Hope came along. Now Darius occupied that spot. And Stacy wanted to do what Hope had done…get her man.

  “I know some might not agree with what I did,” Stacy continued. “I know you probably think I should have waited on God, like you did. But what happened to you doesn’t happen everyday, Hope. The Cinderella story comes along maybe once in a lifetime.”

  “Yes, I wish you’d trusted God,” Hope agreed. “But it’s not my place to judge you.”

  “I appreciate that, Hope, I really do,” Stacy said, her eyes once again filling with tears. “And can you do one more thing? Can you pray for me?”

  Later that evening, Stacy watched the doorknob turn as Darius unlocked it with the key Stacy had given him months before. Tuesdays had unofficially become their night, the one night when Darius was almost always free. She tried to see him two to three times a week but if he only had one night to spare, Tuesdays was it.

  Stacy had taken time with a simple yet hopefully delicious dinner, and Darius’s reaction did not disappoint. “Baby,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly. “Something smells delicious.”

  Stacy relished his kiss before responding. “Nothing too fancy; just some oven-baked barbeque chicken, baked potatoes, and a salad.”

  Darius plopped down on the couch. “Well, I’m starved.” He leaned his head on the back of the couch as the familiar sounds of cooking—cabinets opening and closing, pot lids being lifted and replaced—along with those of the smooth jazz radio station filled the air. Those are two things they have in common, Darius thought, remembering the many nights he listened contentedly while Bo prepared a delicious meal. Cooking and me.

  A frown crossed his face as thoughts of Bo and Stacy occupied his mind. Thanksgiving was weeks away; he had to tell Stacy about his plans to be out of town. Knowing how upset she’d be once she learned these plans included Bo, Darius had decided to tell her it was business, a record promotion his label had sprung on him at the last minute. He hoped a trip to Big Bear for Christmas would make his Thanksgiving no-show a bit more palatable.

  Soon the sound of clanging pots and pans was replaced by the tinkling of forks hitting plates and barbeque sauce being licked off fingers.

  “This is good,” Darius said, reaching for another piece of chicken and placing more salad on his plate. “Sweet and spicy, just how I like it.”

  “Hmm,” Stacy answered. “And the chicken is good too.”

  Darius laughed. He really did like Stacy. Sometimes he wondered how he could have met two people so different yet so perfect for him in their own way. Stacy gave him a feminine touch, and an accepted look in the eyes of the public, and Bo gave him, well, Bo gave him everything else. Darius was so excited about spending the holiday with his lover. He knew he might as well bite the bullet and deliver the news to Stacy.

  “I’ve got some news to tell you,” he began, leaning back in his chair and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “And you’re not going to like it.”

  Stacy leaned back in her chair as well. “Okay, where are you going and why can’t I go with you?”

  Darius laughed. “Has Dionne Warwick been by here, girl? You pro
bably know where I’m going.”

  “I didn’t need the psychic network for that one.” Stacy got up from the table and began clearing away dishes. Darius joined her.

  “There are only two things that work my nerves about us: your busy travel schedule and the amount of time you spend with Bo.”

  “Aw, hell. Well, I guess I’d better not tell you the second part of the news then.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s going with you. Why can’t I go? Last year I couldn’t go to your grandmother’s, and the whacked reason you gave for not inviting me? That she wasn’t very sociable to couples who weren’t married. And now this?”

  “He’s my business manager, baby. And it’s not just him: one of the label execs, his assistant, and a promotions manager are also going. All this travel isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. Interviews and signings all day, and playing crowded, smoky clubs at night.”

  “Yeah,” Stacy said sarcastically. “Sounds horrible, like surgery even.”

  “Well, not that bad.” Darius came up behind Stacy as she placed dishes in the dishwasher. He licked the outside of her ear, one of her sensitive spots.

  “Stop,” Stacy said, only half serious. “You want dessert? I made chocolate cookies with pecans.”

  “Yes, Stacy Gray, I want dessert. Only thing is…you’re all the chocolate I need and I have my own nuts.”

  Stacy laughed. “You’re silly.” Darius continued his oral assault, gliding his tongue down her ear, nibbling her neck, and placing love bites on her shoulders. All the while he performed a slow grind as she stood entrapped between him and the kitchen sink.

  Stacy grabbed a plate of cookies and Darius’s hand. “In case we get hungry later,” she said.

  Once in her bedroom, the seduction continued. Darius eased Stacy out of her pants and planted whispery kisses along her inner thighs. He continued the trail across her slim hips, around her navel, along each breast and finally a deep, thorough plundering of her mouth.