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Authors: Jacquelin Thomas

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BOOK: Jezebel
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She couldn't stand Cynthia. The woman's very presence irritated her to no end.

“Jessie Belle, I heard that you play the piano. I'm surprised that you're not playing for the church.”

“We already have a pianist,” Jessie Belle responded. “You do remember Brenda, don't you?”

Mary Ellen quickly interjected, “Girl, I'd like to stand out here all day, but I need to get in this house and get my work done. Before you know it, it'll be time for me to start dinner. Richard will have a fit if he comes home and I haven't done a thing.”

Cynthia's expression turned ugly. “Y'all don't have to keep throwing it in my face that I don't have a husband. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm divorced.”

“I didn't realize we were being insensitive,” Mary Ellen stated. “Sorry.”

“No, you're not,” Cynthia countered. “I don't have time for this mess.”

She stalked back across the street, uttering a few choice words.

“You should wash that mouth of yours out with soap,” Jessie Belle hollered. “Along with your laundry.”

Mary Ellen laughed. “That girl act like she was about to have a nervous breakdown.”

“I guess Atkinson hasn't mentioned anything about marriage to her.”

Mary Ellen chuckled. “Why bother?” she asked. “It's like he practically lives with her anyway. I don't know how she can show her face in church, living so close to y'all.”

“That's probably the one thing I do respect about her,” Jessie Belle stated. “She's not a hypocrite.”

“Marriage certainly seems to agree with you,” the assistant pastor said when he walked into Traynor's office. “Every time I see you, you're wearing this great big grin on your face.”

“Don, you know the Bible says that he who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.”

“Amen, brother.” Don sat down on the small sofa facing Traynor's desk. “I'm waiting on the good Lord to send me my mate. A couple of the mamas here in church don't like the fact that I don't have a wife, you know.”

Traynor laughed. “Yeah, they weren't too fond of me before I married Jessie Belle.”

“She seems like a nice lady.”

“Jessie Belle is wonderful. She and I are on the same page when it comes to my ministry—you know that's very important. She's ready to jump right in and do whatever is needed. Jessie Belle just wants to serve.”

“That's a blessing, brother.”

“I'm glad to have her in my life.”

Traynor worked at the church for another hour before leaving with Don to meet with other area pastors. They were preparing for an upcoming pastors' summit in August.

They returned to the church shortly after four. Men's Bible study was scheduled at six, so Traynor went home to have dinner with Jessie Belle.

As usual she had everything ready and on the table. Jessie Belle greeted him with a hug and a kiss.

“I missed you,” she murmured.

“I missed you, too.”

Traynor washed his hands in the kitchen sink before sitting down at the table.

“I cooked you a nice rib eye steak and baked potatoes. I didn't know we were out of ranch dressing, but we do have Italian. I'll pick up some more ranch tomorrow.”

Jessie Belle was a good wife. And a phenomenal cook.

After Traynor blessed the food, they delved into their meals. She sliced off a piece of steak, and then asked, “How did your meeting with the other pastors go?”

“I was asked to speak at the leadership conference.”

“That's wonderful,” Jessie Belle murmured. “This is the perfect opportunity to get your name out there. Our membership will grow just from your speaking at other churches and conferences like this. Traynor, I'm so proud of you.”

“I'm pretty excited about it myself. I figured they wanted me to ask my dad to speak. He gave the keynote a few years back.”

“Is he planning to attend this year?” Jessie Belle inquired.

Shrugging, Traynor uttered, “I don't know. It's here in Atlanta…. I told him that if he decided to come, he should take a few days to spend with us. I want him to really get to know you.”

Jessie Belle reached over and took him by the hand. “I'd like that.”

Deep down, Traynor prayed his father would accept the invitation to come for a visit so that he could get to know Jessie Belle. Traynor Senior and his sister continued to express their doubt that the marriage would last. He wanted to prove them wrong.

Jessie Belle had baked a sour cream pound cake for dessert.

Traynor ate two slices before helping his wife clean the kitchen. At five thirty, he walked out of the house to leave for Bible study, while Jessie Belle settled down on the sofa to watch television.

Mary Ellen was on the porch when he opened the front door.

“I came to keep your wife company,” she stated with a smile. “Richard's teaching a night class this evening.”

He stepped aside to let her enter the house. “She's in the den.”

Traynor was glad Jessie Belle had found a good friend in Mary Ellen. He liked her and Richard.

He drove to Ninth Street Baptist Church and parked in his designated space. Traynor got out of the car.

Bible study moved at a steady pace and within two hours, Traynor was back in his car and on his way home.

He turned down the street where his house was located at the end of the block. Out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a long, tall shadow moving along the side of his house.

Is that a man leaving my house?
he wondered.

Fearing for Jessie Belle's safety, Traynor parked the car in front of the house and jumped out, running toward the front door.

“Jessie Belle, where are you?” he called out.

“Traynor, for goodness' sake—what's wrong with you? You nearly scared me to death.”

“I saw something outside…. Was someone here?”

Meeting his gaze, Jessie Belle shook her head no. “Of course not. I just got out of the tub. I was getting ready to welcome you home properly.”

Traynor couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been lurking outside his home. While Jessie Belle dressed for bed, he went outside, checking to make sure his eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him.

They weren't, he realized when he saw footprints.

Some man had been here, and from the looks of things, he'd been looking through the window, spying on his wife.

He walked back into the house.

“I found footsteps,” Traynor announced, his eyes never leaving Jessie Belle's face.

“The yardman was here earlier. It's probably his footprints that you saw out there.”

“When I was coming down the street, I saw something—a man outside. Someone's been spying on you. Jessie Belle, I want you to keep the doors and windows locked at all times. You're not in Mayville anymore.”

“Honey, I think you're making more out of this than necessary. Are you sure it wasn't Cynthia? You know she's been dying to kick me out of your life. Maybe she was over here trying to catch a look at you.” Jessie Belle released a nervous chuckle. She didn't like the idea of someone spying on her.

“The footprints were those of a man.”

“Well, the gardener was here today. Maybe you just saw something but thought it was a person. The streets are well lit up—anybody could easily get caught.”

“I'm gonna speak to Mr. Gunther about it in the morning.”

Jessie Belle nodded. She hoped that the footprints did indeed belong to the gardener. But if they didn't, then whom did they belong to? It was probably Cynthia being nosy, she decided. Jessie Belle didn't doubt for a minute that the witch would slip on a pair of men's shoes to throw off suspicions.

Traynor went through the house once more, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. He closed all the curtains.

“If anyone's trying to peek inside here tonight, they're gonna be disappointed.”

Removing her robe, Jessie Belle whispered, “Enough of that—I've missed my husband and all I want to do right now is show you how much.”

Jessie Belle kissed him with a hunger that belied her outward calm.

They fell back against the bed. She made love to her husband as if it were the last time.

Later in bed, she tossed and turned beside a sleeping Traynor. She couldn't sleep because she kept hearing strange night sounds. Jessie Belle hadn't realized just how spooked she was by the thought of someone spying on them.

A couple of times, she thought she heard footsteps outside her bedroom.

Jessie Belle retrieved her knife from its hiding place between the mattresses and walked through the house, searching. She checked each window. Jessie Belle went to her living room and peered out the huge picture window.

There were still lights on at Cynthia's house. Jessie Belle's breath caught when she glimpsed Cynthia sitting on the porch.

She's staring down here. I knew it had to be her
.

Jessie Belle was tempted to walk down to Cynthia's house and confront her. She wasn't gonna allow anyone to destroy her happy home.

Just as she headed to the door, the knife still in her hand, Jessie Belle heard Traynor call out her name.

Jessie Belle eyed the front door for a moment before yelling out, “Honey, I'm coming. I just came downstairs to get something to drink.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
eated in the rocking chair on her porch, Jessie Belle glimpsed Atkinson's car parked in front of Cynthia's house. She toyed with the idea of walking over there just to get on the witch's nerves, but changed her mind. Cynthia wasn't worth the energy it would take.

Atkinson and Cynthia walked out of the house all hugged up. It was obvious they'd just had a midafternoon tryst. Cynthia hadn't even bothered to comb her messed up 'fro and Jessie Belle was pretty sure she hadn't had that granny-looking housedress on when Atkinson arrived. The frock was just something to cover up her nakedness.

Every now and then, Atkinson would look in her direction. Jessie Belle pretended to be engrossed in her reading.

She spied him when he strolled off Cynthia's porch toward his car a few minutes later.

Atkinson climbed inside.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Deveraux,” Atkinson called out as he pulled his car to a halt in front of her house. “We just got in a fully loaded silver Chevelle. You and your husband should come down to the lot and check it out.”

Jessie Belle got up and strolled down the steps. “What kind of a deal can you offer my husband?” she asked, well aware that Cynthia was watching them from her porch.

When she reached the car, Atkinson said, “I wish you hadn't left the other night. I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“Your girlfriend lives right across the street, in case you've forgotten that little fact. Also you can't seem to remember that I'm married.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” Jessie Belle asked. “I don't think she does, Atkinson. If looks could kill, I'd be keeling over right about now.”

He laughed. “You don't have to worry about Cynthia. She ain't gonna do nothing to nobody. That girl all talk.”

“I'm not worried about her doing anything to me, Atkinson. I just don't want any scandal tainting my husband's ministry.”

“Traynor Deveraux is a man,” Atkinson stated drily. “He ain't nothing but a man, Jessie Belle.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop trying to make him into more. He just like the rest of us—trying to make our way in an evil world.” Atkinson checked out himself in the rearview mirror. “I came over here last night to talk to you, but then I saw your husband driving up the street, so I left. Girl, you got me parking my car on the street behind your house and cutting through folks' yards and bushes to see you. That ought to tell you something. I don't do no mess like that for a woman.”

“You were outside my house? Traynor almost caught you.” Her lips puckered with annoyance. “Atkinson, that can't happen again.”

“Why don't you leave him?” Atkinson asked. “You don't love him. I can see it in your eyes that you want me.”

Jessie Belle laughed. “Oh, really. You can see all that?”

“You're saying it's not true?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying. Besides, I don't think that Cynthia will really be thrilled about that.”

“I'll leave her. From the moment I saw you, I knew.”

“You knew what?” Jessie Belle demanded, her arms folded across her chest.

“That you're the only woman I want to be with. I'm falling in love with you.”

Jessie Belle laughed to hide her irritation. She had no intention of leaving Traynor, so Jessie Belle said, “Atkinson, you're confusing love with lust. You don't even know anything about me—how can you have such strong feelings for me?”

“Jessie Belle, let's stop playing games.”

“I'm not playing any games, Atkinson. The only thing you can do for me right now is give me and Traynor a deal on a car. That's it.”

“You keep talking about this car—you really want it?”

“Of course.”

“So if I cut you a deal on the Chevelle—you and me—we can spend some time together?” Atkinson's eyes traveled downward from her face to her neck and chest. “'Cause I can get you a deal.”

She smiled. “Well, that'll depend on how much of a deal you offer.”

Cynthia left her porch and was headed across the street to where they were talking.

“I thought you had to rush back to the lot,” she uttered loud enough for the entire block to hear. “At least that's what you told me.”

Atkinson muttered a curse. “Sorry about that,” he said.

Jessie Belle laughed. “I guess you'd better be going.”

“Give me a chance,” Atkinson pleaded.

“Goodbye.”

Cynthia walked toward them fast. “I know you hear me talking to you, Atkinson.”

He drove off before she reached the car.

Cynthia glared at Jessie Belle. “What do y'all have so much to talk about?”

“Ask him,” she responded before walking away.

Mary Ellen rushed over to the house fifteen minutes later.

“Girl, I thought you and Cynthia was about to have words. What happened? I'm driving to the house and I see you two in the street all up in each other's face. What is going on?”

Jessie Belle shrugged in nonchalance. “I can't believe she's so upset. Atkinson stopped by here after he left her house. He and I were just talking about a car. I didn't know she was so insecure.”

“Y'all buying a new car?”

“We're thinking about it,” she confirmed.

“From Atkinson?” Mary Ellen wanted to know.

Jessie Belle nodded. “He's a car salesman, isn't he?”

“Yeah, but I think he's attracted to you. You don't want to go giving him the wrong idea.”

“It doesn't matter, Mary Ellen. I just want that new Chevelle in silver and with a discount. If I can get it by flirting a little, what harm is done? I love Traynor, and Atkinson isn't worth losing him over.”

“Then don't play this game with him,” Mary Ellen advised. “Atkinson Bradford is a player. He's been stringing Cynthia around for the past three years I've lived in this house. He started coming around about a week or two after her husband moved out.”

“I wonder if they were having an affair.”

Shrugging, Mary Ellen responded, “I heard they were, but I don't know if it's true or not.”

Jessie Belle shrugged. “It doesn't matter to me. I just want him to give me a deal on the car I want—then Atkinson can go to Timbuktu.”

She and Jessie Belle laughed.

“Girl, you are something else,” Mary Ellen stated. “I'm glad we're friends. But seriously, be careful. Traynor was telling Richard this morning that he thought someone was peeping in your house last night.”

“I told him the gardener from the church was over here yesterday.”

“Richard told him the same thing.”

Jessie Belle stole a peek out her window. “Cynthia's still sitting on her porch looking down this way. Don't that chick have something better to do?”

Traynor pulled into the driveway.

Jessie Belle glanced over at Mary Ellen. “My man's home. She'd better not run over here getting all in his face. I'll cut her up now and repent later.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Mary Ellen said with a chuckle. “You talking about cutting people and stuff.”

“I'm not about to let that tramp mess up what I have with my husband. I'll fight for mine. That's just the way it is.”

Mary Ellen eyed her for a moment. “Okay…I hear you. Let's talk about something else. I can see you all frowned up and looking like you ready to just walk across the street.”

“I don't like that girl, and she better stay out of my way.”

They heard Traynor enter the house and put an end to their discussion. Mary Ellen made a quick exit.

“Hey, honey,” she greeted. “How was your day?”

“Great,” he replied. “And yours?”

“Pretty good.” Jessie Belle took him by the hand. “Dinner's almost ready. By the time you get settled, I'll have everything on the table.”

“You're a good wife, Jessie Belle. And because of that, I'm going to get you that car. You deserve it.”

“Thank You, Lord,” she uttered. “Oh, honey…I'm so happy. Just talk to Deacon Bradford—he'll give us a good deal. I'm sure of it.” Jessie Belle embraced him. “Thank you.”

They shared a tender kiss.

“Oh, I spoke to the gardener,” Traynor announced when they separated. “He said it was most likely his footsteps on the side of the house. He planted the perennials you wanted over there.”

“I didn't even notice them,” Jessie Belle murmured.

“Why don't we check them out now?” Traynor suggested. “He wants to know if you want more.”

Jessie Belle's mind wasn't on flowers. She was getting a new car.

“I just got off the phone with Atkinson,” Traynor announced the next day when Jessie Belle walked back inside the house. She'd spent the morning working on the flower bed. She'd decided to add more flowers and didn't want to wait on the gardener.

“I told him we'd drive out to the lot this weekend.”

Jessie Belle couldn't stop grinning. “Really?”

She washed her hands in the kitchen sink and dried them with a paper towel.

He smiled and nodded. “We're getting you a car.”

“I'm so excited,” Jessie Belle squealed. “My first car…”

“I didn't know it meant that much to you.”

“Traynor, all I've ever wanted was a loving husband, a beautiful house and a new car,” Jessie Belle stated. “But I don't just think about me. Traynor, I want you to have a big church and be on television. The world needs to hear you preach, honey. I can see it now…you on the radio and on television just saving souls—bringing them to the Lord. Just think how many people you'll reach.”

Traynor gave her an indulgent smile.

“We can have those things, Traynor. I just know it—we just have to step out on faith.”

“If it's God's will…”

“God doesn't just want us waiting around on Him. Sometimes He requires that we step out of our comfort zones and just trust Him. You said this last Sunday when you preached.”

Traynor grinned. “So you were listening.”

She smiled in return. “Of course. You're my husband.”

“I thank God for you, Jessie Belle. It means a lot to me that you are so supportive. You make me feel as if I can do anything.”

“Traynor, you can. I don't believe God just called you to pastor a little church like Ninth Street Baptist. He's called you for greater opportunities—you just have to recognize them.”

They spent a couple of hours together before Traynor left to run errands.

Jessie Belle could hardly wait for the weekend to arrive. She was excited about getting her very first car.

On Saturday afternoon, Traynor and Jessie Belle met with Atkinson at the Chevrolet dealership.

Three hours later Jessie Belle drove her car home.

When they ventured into the house, Jessie Belle noted Traynor seemed troubled by something.

“What's wrong, honey? Are you worried about the car payment?”

“No,” Traynor responded.

“What is it, then?” Jessie Belle sat down beside her husband. “I can tell something's bothering you.”

“I appreciate everything Atkinson did for us today, but I have to be honest. I don't like the way the man looks at you. I was watching him today—he can't seem to take his eyes off you.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?” Jessie Belle laughed. “That man probably watches every woman in the church. I can tell just by looking at him that he's a ladies' man.”

Traynor eyed her. “Just be careful around him. We don't want him misconstruing your kindness for something more.”

“Honey, you can trust me,” Jessie Belle assured him. “I thought you knew that, but I guess I was wrong. Traynor, I'm not some fragile little girl. I can handle these guys around here—I've been doing that since I got my first period.”

“Jessie Belle…”

“For goodness' sake, Traynor, you're only twenty-two years old. Don't be such a prude.”

Jessie Belle avoided any contact with Atkinson on Sunday morning before service began. She could tell he was trying to steal a few minutes with her.

After church, she was not so lucky.

He crept up behind her. “Baby, I held up my end of the bargain. Now it's your turn.”

Jessie Belle pushed away from him. “Have you lost your mind, Atkinson?” she asked in anger. “Keep your hands off me! For goodness' sake, my husband is right down the hall.”

Atkinson shrugged in nonchalance. “I don't care. I want you for myself. Leave Traynor. He's not man enough for you.”

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