Let the Church Say Amen (10 page)

Tawny looked skeptically at Jonathan, a brick nestled in her hand ready for launch. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m David’s brother, Jonathan. Why don’t I just give you a ride back home?”

Tawny started rapidly tapping her foot. “I want David to come here and talk to me.”

“I ain’t coming nowhere!” David yelled.

Suddenly, Simon stood and spun on his son. “Yes, you are! Get out! Get out of my house!”

David looked at his mother, his eyes pleading for her to come to his aid. Loretta looked like she was too tired to argue. Simon never took his eyes off David. “I am sorry, Loretta, but I will not allow this sorry excuse for a son to defile my home, bringing in his drug-infested friends, and blatantly disrespecting me. I don’t care how sick he is, I want him out! And it’s not open for discussion!” Simon turned and stormed out of the den. Loretta sighed heavily, muttered, “I’m sorry, David,” then got up and followed Simon out of the room.

David started after Loretta to protest. Jonathan stopped him. “Don’t, man. Maybe you need to go home with Tawny, at least until we get this all straightened out.”

Tawny had made her way onto the patio and was standing just outside the door, with a victorious look across her face.

“Fine,” David said, “I don’t want to stay in this stuffy-ass place anyway.” He wobbled over to the sofa, stepped into his shoes, and looked around for his car keys. He noticed them sitting on top of the TV. He turned to Tawny. “Grab my keys and let’s go.”

“Yes, baby.” Tawny’s whole attitude had changed. You’d have never known she was just in their backyard throwing bricks and acting a fool.

Tawny grabbed the keys, clutched the brown paper bag, and strung her arm around David. “Let me help you to your truck, baby.” David glared at her. Tawny got an innocent expression across her face. “What, I’m sorry, okay? You know how I get sometime. I just need a little hit and some of you.”

David looked at her, then Jonathan, before finally starting toward the door. “Me, too, baby. Me, too. Let’s roll.”

Jonathan watched as they stepped over the shattered glass and walked outside and around to David’s truck. He was convinced that they were both crazy. He shook his head as his mind replayed the scene that had just unfolded. Maybe he should’ve stayed in Atlanta. This family drama was almost as bad as what he was dealing with back there.

I
T HAD BEEN JUST OVER
two months since he’d talked to Tracy. While it’d been hard, Jonathan had been able to make it through because of the beautiful young lady who stood in front of the choir directing the young voices through a glorious rendition of “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.”

Angela beamed as the young soloist belted out the words that sent the congregation into a frenzy. The little girl, Alicia Patterson, sang like she was thirty years old, even though she clearly couldn’t be any more than seven or eight.

Jonathan stood with other members, applauding as the youth choir wrapped up their selection.

Angela motioned for the children to sit, then turned to the congregation and smiled. Her eyes met Jonathan’s and he broke out into a huge smile as well.

They had seemed to pick up where they left off, spending almost all of their time together these past few weeks. At first, it was simply a distraction from Tracy, but soon Jonathan got to the point where he was actually looking forward to their time together.

Jonathan watched Angela walk back to the choir stand as his father called for one more round of applause for the choir and soloist.

Their youth day event had been a success, even though he felt he hadn’t done much but offer his opinion, one that generally mirrored that of Angela’s. Still, she seemed appreciative of his assistance.

Simon’s sermon was short today, something about asking God for forgiveness. Jonathan had been in another world throughout the sermon. Right after his father began, Jonathan started to wonder if God would ever forgive him for his relationship with Tracy. He spent the next twenty minutes thinking about all the reasons he shouldn’t be with Tracy, and all the reasons he should pursue a relationship with Angela.

In the end, he decided there was no question about it, he needed to be with Angela.

“So, what did you think?”

Jonathan and Angela were sitting across from each other in a booth at Carrino’s, Angela’s favorite Italian restaurant. It was her twenty-fourth birthday and much to his mother’s dismay, Jonathan had agreed to take her to dinner after church. Loretta wanted them to come eat at her house, but Jonathan knew Angela wanted to be alone with him on her birthday; she’d been hinting at it all week. The atmosphere was perfect. The restaurant was dimly lit, a small tea lamp shining from the back center of the table. Most of the people in the restaurant looked like they were in love or trying to get there.

“You did an awesome job today,” Jonathan said, taking Angela’s hand.

“
We
did an awesome job,” she said, squeezing his hand tightly. “We make an awesome team.”

Jonathan loved seeing the happiness etched in her face. “That we do.” He hesitated, never taking his eyes off her.

“I wonder where our food is,” Angela said, trying to get his gaze off her.

Jonathan continued to stare. How could he have ever let this woman go, let their relationship go? How could he have given up something that seemed so right, so natural, for something so … unnatural?

“Why are you staring at me?” Angela finally asked.

“Angela, I was a fool,” Jonathan replied.

“I know that.” She smiled, trying to lighten the moment.

“Seriously, I never should have let you get away. We were meant to be together.”

“Well, I’m just glad you finally realized there were no better fish in the sea,” she said, half-kidding.

“I told you—”

“I know. I know. You didn’t leave me for another woman.” Angela turned her head. “Look, let’s not talk about why you left.”

Jonathan paused as the waiter sat their food in front of them. Angela had ordered the shrimp scampi pasta. He had stuck with the tried-and-true spaghetti.

“Can I get anything else for you?” the waiter asked.

Angela shook her head.

“We’re fine,” Jonathan responded. He eyed Angela’s food. “That looks good.”

“You haven’t changed. We come to the best Italian restaurant in the state, and you order spaghetti and meatballs.”

Jonathan dipped his fork into his noodles and twirled them around before bringing them to his mouth. He made a funny face, causing Angela to break out into laughter.

Jonathan talked incessantly throughout the rest of the dinner. He was trying not to let thoughts of Tracy seep into his head.

“Boy, you were just a little chatterbox tonight,” Angela said, after they had paid the check and were on their way back to her apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jonathan searched for words to explain his behavior. “It just feels good talking with you again.”

Angela smiled and took his hand. She leaned her head back against the seat in his car and closed her eyes. Jonathan kept her hand gripped tightly as he navigated his car down Interstate Ten toward her apartment.

It wasn’t long before Jonathan found himself standing in front of Angela’s door, waiting for her to get it unlocked. The sun was setting and cast a shadow on Angela’s back.

“Thank you for dinner. And a memorable birthday,” she said, turning to face him.

“It was my pleasure.” Jonathan looked into Angela’s eyes. She seemed happy, yet cautious. He realized then just how much he’d hurt her.

“I will always love you.”

Angela’s shoulders sank with relief. “I will always love you, too.” She leaned in and kissed Jonathan. A slow, deliberate, and passionate kiss. It sent fire through every inch of his body. He hadn’t felt like that since Tracy. He closed his eyes. There was Tracy invading his thoughts again. Jonathan kissed Angela harder, hoping his passion would will thoughts of Tracy away.

He opened his eyes and pulled back from her. “Can I come inside?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” If ever there was a time when the phrase “her mouth said no, but her eyes said yes” applied, this was it. Angela looked like she wanted him, desperately.

“Please. I need you.” Jonathan desperately wanted her, too. This was different from Veronica. He needed to be with Angela to prove how much he loved her, that he was making the right decision by letting Tracy go.

“Jonathan, I haven’t been with anyone since we broke up. I … I promised God if he just let me get over you, I’d honor Him and stay celibate until I got married.” Angela’s breathing was heavy. It looked like it was taking every ounce of her power to get those words out.

“I need you,” Jonathan repeated, leaning in and kissing her even more forcefully.

He felt the hesitation in Angela’s body. But he also felt her start to relax the longer he kissed her. She wanted him just as much as he needed her.

Angela pulled herself from his touch. She stared at him through misty eyes. “Jonathan, I can’t be hurt again.”

Jonathan stared back. His thoughts were cloudy. All he knew right now was that more than anything he wanted to be with Angela. “I’ll never hurt you again.” He kissed her again, this time easing her through the front door and inside the apartment. Angela pulled back, dropped her purse on the floor, and pushed the door shut. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he said, taking her into his arms.

Jonathan didn’t know if he’d be able to keep that promise, but right now, he knew that from the bottom of his heart, he meant it.

R
ACHEL BRUSHED OUT THE WRINKLES
in her dress as she stepped to the doorway. Her heart was racing. Bobby had actually called and asked her to come over without Jordan. She knew he’d come around. She had raced to the mall and bought the multicolored wrap dress now hugging her body. The strappy, high-heeled sandals were the perfect topping, showing off her smooth legs. She felt as good as she knew she looked.

Rachel had her auburn-tinted hair in spiral curls, just the way Bobby liked it. She ran her fingers through the curls and tossed the few loose strands out of her face before ringing the doorbell. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. She was determined not to mess it up again. All she needed was another chance. She could make Bobby love her again.

“Rachel?” Bobby called from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Bobby eased the door open. “Come on in.” He had a serious look on his face. Rachel didn’t let it bother her. She knew she’d have a smile on his face before she left.

“How are you?” Rachel asked as she strutted in. She was making sure her hips swayed as she passed Bobby. He used to always tell her how fine she was: she had kept her figure despite having two kids.

“I’m doing okay.” Bobby closed the door.

“I’m glad you called.” Rachel turned, paused, then looked Bobby dead in the eyes. “I’ve missed you so much.” Rachel stepped forward and began to raise her arms for a hug. Bobby backed up.

Rachel stepped back.
Slow down, girl. This may be a little more work than I thought.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you off. It’s just that I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.”

Bobby stepped around her. “Rachel, I think you have the wrong idea—”

Rachel rushed out her words. “I knew you never stopped loving me. I could tell in your voice. I sure as hell never stopped loving you. I just want us to be a family again.”

“Rachel, listen. That’s not why I called you over here.”

“Bobby, let’s stop playing games. We were meant to be together. I know it, and you know it too. I think we’ve just—” Rachel stopped midsentence and stared at the entrance to the living room. “What in the hell is she doing here?”

Bobby slid over to where Shante was standing.

“Is everything okay, Boo?” Shante asked.

“Boo???” Rachel felt her temper flaring. What kind of game was Bobby playing?
Calm down,
she told herself. This is the new Rachel, the one that doesn’t act a fool. “Bobby, what is going on?” she asked, her hands positioned defensively on her hips.

Bobby took Shante’s hand. “Baby, I’ll handle this. You go on in the back.”

Shante patted his hand. “No, I think I’ll stay.” She walked over to the love seat, sat down, picked up an
Essence
magazine, and started flipping through the pages. Bobby looked like he wanted to protest but just let out a deep sigh.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “Tell me what that bitch is doing here.”

So much for being civilized. Maybe it just wasn’t in her blood.

“This bitch belongs here,” Shante snidely responded. She scooted to the edge of the seat like she was preparing for a fight.

Bobby jumped in before anyone could say anything else. “Look, Rachel, I called you because I needed to talk to you. Will you sit down, please?”

“Why does she have to be here, though?” Rachel didn’t know whether to cry or wring that smug-looking heifer’s neck.

“I told you,” Shante interjected forcefully, “I’m here because, as Bobby’s woman, I have every right to be here.”

“Shante,” Bobby snapped, “can I handle this, please?”

“Well, handle it then,” Shante said, while glaring at Rachel.

Bobby motioned for Rachel to have a seat on the sofa. Rachel refused to move.

“Please,” Bobby said.

Rachel stood with her arms crossed a few more seconds, before finally sitting down.

“So talk, Bobby,” she said.

Bobby took a deep breath. “Rachel, you know I care for you. I always will care for you because you are the mother of my son.”

“So is that the only reason you care for me?”

“Will you let me finish, please?”

Rachel threw her hands up. She didn’t know where this was going, but it looked like her whole plan to get back with Bobby was falling apart.

“We have been through a lot, things that will never make us the same.”

“Bobby, don’t say that.”

Rachel started tearing up. She suddenly didn’t care that Shante was sitting across the room staring at them. “You loved me so much and I loved you. Don’t say we can never get that back.”

“Rachel, you’re right, I did love you, once upon a time. That was a long time ago. What we had is over. It has been for a long time.”

The tears were falling freely now. Rachel’s heart felt like it was being torn out. She slid to the floor on her knees.

“Bobby, don’t do this; please, don’t do this. Jordan needs you; I need you.” She grabbed Bobby around the legs. “We can make this work. We can! We can!” Rachel was near hysteria.

Bobby tried to pull Rachel’s arms from around his legs.

“Rachel, calm down. You know it’s over between us. Don’t act like this.”

Rachel continued crying. “Bobby, don’t do this. I need you!”

Bobby freed the lock on his legs and grasped her wrists tightly as he pulled her up and gently shook her. “Rachel, stop it! Stop it! Listen to me!”

Rachel continued sobbing, her body growing limp. Bobby eased her down onto the sofa.

“Is this what you called me here for? To tear my heart out in front of your new woman?” Rachel buried her face in her hands.

“No,” Bobby replied.

“Then why?” Rachel sobbed. She lifted her head and stared at Bobby. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Bobby carefully placed Rachel’s hands in her lap then got up and walked toward the living room window. He took a deep breath. “Rachel, Shante and I are getting married.”

Rachel’s sobbing quickly stopped. Bobby was standing with his back to her. “What did you just say?” She must have heard him wrong.

Bobby turned around. “We’re getting married, and we want joint custody of Jordan.”

Rachel’s eyes grew wide. Not only was she
not
going to get Bobby back but he was marrying another woman and he wanted to take her son. Rachel felt her fury rebuilding. “You just didn’t say—”

“Yes, Rachel,” Bobby continued, “we’re getting married. We don’t want any drama. We were hoping we could handle this like adults.”

“You have lost your damn mind!”

Rachel stood up. No need to act civilized. Bobby was gone. She might as well let the real Rachel out. She wiped the tears from her face. “If you think for one New York minute that I’m going to let you and that fat bitch anywhere near my son, you are as crazy as she looks!”

Shante jumped up. “That’s your last time calling me a bitch,” she said, lunging at Rachel. Rachel jumped out of the way just in time.

“Stop it!” Bobby screamed as he grabbed Shante.

Shante gained her balance and glared at Rachel. “Get this psycho out of here!”

Rachel started backing up toward the kitchen. “You wanna see psycho! I’ll show you psycho!”

Bobby and Shante looked stunned as they tried to figure out what she was doing. Rachel snatched open a cabinet drawer and pulled out a butcher knife.

“Come on, bitch!” she screamed, waving it at Shante. “I’ll show you psycho!” She dove at Shante who screamed and jumped across the sofa.

“Rachel!” Bobby yelled, blocking her path. “Stop it!”

Rachel was a madwoman. Her curls were becoming disheveled, her cheap mascara was running down her face, and her eyes were crazed. “Move out of the way, Bobby! You love me. I know you do. This tramp is just making you think you don’t. If I slice her up real good, maybe she’ll get the message and leave us alone.”

“I’m calling the police!” Shante screamed, racing toward the phone.

Bobby remained calm although he looked scared to death. “Rachel, put the knife down. You don’t want to stab anybody. Think of Jordan.”

Rachel swung the knife at Bobby, barely missing his chest. “Don’t you dare say his name,” she cried. “Don’t you ever say his name again! Were you thinking about Jordan when you left me?”

Bobby stepped back and said, “Rachel, I didn’t leave you. You slept with Tony, remember? You left me.”

Rachel started crying again, but she kept the knife firmly pointed at Bobby. “You slept with Tony, remember,” she said, mocking. “Of course, I remember; you won’t ever let me forget!”

“So, I didn’t leave you. I loved you.” Bobby started taking baby steps toward Rachel.

Rachel’s shoulders sank. “Then why couldn’t you forgive me that one little mistake?”

“It wasn’t exactly little, Rachel. Remember Nia?”

“Nia is a beautiful child. You could’ve learned to love her.”

“She is a wonderful child, but I couldn’t get over you sleeping with my best friend.”

“You make mistakes, Bobby! I forgave you when you took that girl’s phone number that time! Right in my face.”

“Rachel, that’s not the same.”

Rachel jabbed the knife toward Bobby. He jumped back, skirting the wall. Rachel closed in, pointing the knife at his throat. “Like my daddy always says, no one sin is greater than the next!”

Bobby didn’t take his eyes off the knife. “Rachel, let’s not rehash the past. Give me the knife, please!”

“No!” she screamed. “If I can’t have you, nobody can!”

Rachel felt like she had stepped out of her body. Never in a million years would she have dreamed she’d be standing in Bobby’s living room, ready to slice his throat.

“Ma’am, put the knife down!”

Rachel was so hysterical, she didn’t hear the two uniformed officers come in. But there they were, standing with their guns drawn at her like she was a common criminal. She looked at them, then at Shante hovering behind them. She slowly turned back toward Bobby. He looked terrified. Her eyes made their way to the six-inch butcher knife that was just inches from Bobby’s throat.
What the hell am I doing?
Rachel dropped the knife and collapsed to the floor in tears. The snap of the handcuffs around her wrists was the last thing she remembered.