Sister Betty Says I Do (10 page)

“Oh. I'm sorry. My days and mind seem to be jumping all over the place lately.”

She needed to reclaim her tranquility. In that same moment she made her mind up that when she finally did have that day's late noonday prayer, she would be untethered from problems not directly connected to her. She believed her pastor was a man of God, and she figured that by now God would have troubled enough to make him see that nothing good would come of messing around with Ima.

“What can I do for you?” she added.

“I don't know how to come out and say it without sounding a bit foolish. But as usual, when I'm bothered, I need to chat with my spiritual mother.”

“Did you speak to God first?”

“Yes, Sister Betty, I did.”

“And . . . ”

“He's led me to talk to you.”

Before Sister Betty could form a reply, a sharp pain raced from one kneecap to the other. It felt as though a hot poker had been plunged into them. She dropped her head. “What is it?” Her eyes swept around her kitchen, as though they were under the control of a higher power, before landing upon the travel brochures Freddie had left. It was definitely a sign that whatever Leotis needed didn't matter. She needed to look through them before Freddie made a final decision without her regarding their honeymoon. Feeling that she now had an excuse to cut short their conversation, she said quickly, “I'm sorta busy. Are you certain this can't wait for a better time?”

“Please, Sister Betty. I wouldn't put this on you if there were any other way.” Leotis's reply was cloaked in desperation. He began to make a choking sound. It wasn't clear if he was choking on something or was about to cry. “She's here at the church.”

“She who?”

“Ima,” Leotis whispered. “She asked me out to lunch yesterday, and I told her I'd meet her at Le Posh. But when my car started acting up and I called a tow truck, I completely forgot about calling Ima to cancel the plans. I'm in my dressing room, outside my study, and she's down the hall with Mother Pray Onn and some of the choir members.”

He stopped and took a breath before he continued. His voice turned apologetic. “It's my fault. I don't know what possessed me to open the choir rehearsal room door, but I did. She looked directly at me and winked, as though nothing had gone wrong yesterday. Then she said in front of the entire choir that she had need of my counseling and she'd come to my office directly when the choir took a break. I should've told her to schedule an appointment, but I didn't, because I was feeling guilty about not showing or calling, and now I don't know what to do. She's still a soul, and I don't wanna jeopardize it.”

Sister Betty was about to respond and ask what it was about Ima that'd turned him into a man-child or a punk when she heard the sound of a phone being placed back on its base. Since she could also hear Leotis breathing, she figured it had to be Sharvon.
Oh, Lord, Sharvon's been listening the entire time again.

Ima had stepped inside Leotis's study only moments ago, when he'd not answered her knock. Accidentally looking at the LCD on his multibuttoned conference phone, she discovered that the button labeled
PASTOR
read “in use.” Ima, in addition to being gorgeous, was also a snoop without a conscience. She saw an opportunity to listen in, and so she did.

After hearing Sister Betty's voice on the other end, a noise in the outer hallway startled her. When the footsteps came dangerously close to entering Leotis's study, she carefully replaced the phone on its base. The last thing she wanted was for someone to catch her inside the study and on the phone; she was also hoping Leotis wouldn't discover she'd been listening to his conversation. Because she'd been alarmed by the noise in his hallway, she wasn't able to hear everything that was said. Whatever it was, it involved Sister Betty, which meant it could involve Sharvon.
I'm nipping this in the bud right now.

 

Sister Betty suddenly felt crowded in her own home. The feeling overwhelmed her once she hung up her telephone. She'd grown tired of listening to Leotis sound desperate and pathetic about a bad situation he'd brought upon himself. She was also certain that Sharvon had listened in on her private telephone call, again while Leotis was asking for help. “As soon as she steps into your office, call that heifer a cab or give her a permission slip to ride with Sasha on the Access-a-Ride van,” Sister Betty had barked into the telephone a few moments ago. “You're a grown man, and one who God has chosen to lead His sheep. Now, act like it.”

Still determined to finally and firmly confront Sharvon about respect for another's privacy, Sister Betty walked down the hallway toward Sharvon's bedroom. As she passed a hallway window, she saw Sharvon outside. It'd stopped raining, and Sharvon was chatting with the next-door neighbor, Missionary Patience. Although Sister Betty couldn't hear the conversation, just watching Sharvon and Patience laughing and exchanging high fives was enough to convince her that perhaps she'd been mistaken. Maybe there was something wrong with the phone. “Lord, thank you for not letting me make a fool out of myself and pile more trouble onto Sharvon's heavy load.”

Singing, Sister Betty turned to walk back up the hallway. She stopped only long enough to pick up the brochures so she could add her vision to her honeymoon plans. Somehow it made her feel better just holding on to the stack of brochures and knowing that by the time Freddie came over later that evening, as he often did, she'd have a decision to give him.
Freddie's been looking poorly lately. I'm probably worrying him to death by dawdling around here. I'm to be Mrs. Freddie Noel in less than a couple of months, and so I might as well start doing my share of the heavy decision making.

 

By the time Leotis reentered his study, Ima had already made herself at home and was thumbing through one of the many study Bibles lying out on his desk.

“I wasn't sure if you'd forgotten I said earlier that I wanted to see you or not,” she lied, “but you were taking so long, so I took matters into my own hands and decided to look through God's book to see if I could find help.” She held up the study Bible. “I found this CD in the back of it.
Sacred Love Songs.
It sounds like something I'd be interested in listening to. I hope you don't mind if I take it home.” Ima, with the CD still in her hand, walked over and stopped within inches of Leotis. “I hope I'm not being too presumptuous.”

“It's definitely presumptuous,” Leotis said, “but I'm certainly not going to hold it against you, especially given how things turned out yesterday. . . .”

“Really,” Ima purred, taking several steps toward him, “I'm the one that should apologize. Something came up, and I wasn't able to get to the restaurant. The battery on my cell phone died, and I couldn't call you. I hope you didn't have to wait around too long before you realized something must have come up.”

Leotis folded his hands and looked about his office for somewhere to place his eyes besides upon Ima. He was certain she'd lied again, and without so much as any sign of remorse. Whatever guilt he felt about yesterday, she'd just erased. Sister Betty's words of advice echoed in his head.
Call that heifer a cab!

“If Mother Pray Onn is ready to leave, then I suppose you should leave to. I'm really rather busy, and perhaps next time you can do as most do around here and make an appointment.”

Ima gave no indication that his words had had any effect on her. “Well, she has already left to meet up with Bea. I didn't go with her, because I really needed to talk with you and I didn't want her around when I did.”

Leotis stood his ground. He didn't retreat, and neither did Ima. With the
Sacred Love Songs
CD still in her hand, Ima tossed her long hair to one side and quickly began reading the liner notes, as if she intended on doing so the entire time.

“Hmm. This Reverend T. D. Jakes is a very popular preacher. I've heard of him, but this is the first time I've read or heard anything by him.” Ima pursed her lips as though she were about to pout. “Did you also know that King Solomon tried playing hard to get?” She smiled, waiting to see if the mention of King Solomon piqued his interest. His face was blank, and so she couldn't tell. She teased him further. “While I was waiting on you, I did a little reading and discovered that the king was full of tricks and romance.”

That time Leotis did retreat. He retreated to his desk. “This is something that is discussed in our couples' therapy or within the women's groups, along with the CD in your hand. It is improper for me to go into something so obviously of a sexual and personal nature without one or two of the deaconesses or someone from the single women's ministry present.”

“But Solomon was so wise. I haven't read the entire book, but it doesn't appear that he needed to
call
upon anyone. He just handled the situation.”

“I'm not King Solomon. I don't play tricks, but I am going to make that call.”

“Which call would that be?” Ima wasn't about to take no for an answer. A man saying no to her was as foreign as her speaking Martian. It just didn't happen on planet Ima. “I truly would like to discuss my problem, and since Aunt Sasha has already left and it doesn't appear as if you are needed around here . . . ” Ima stopped and smiled. “Perhaps you can drive me home.”

He could feel an invisible Sister Betty perched upon his shoulder. She was poking him with a hot iron, repeating her order.
Call that heifer a cab!

“I'm going to call you a cab,” Leotis blurted. “I can't take you home. I've already made plans.”

“Can't you change them or be a little late?” Ima's childlike mannerisms took over, and with a mischievous grin on her face, she twisted and turned in one spot. “I can make it worth your while.”

“Excuse me?” Leotis's hands flew up to his ears, as though to ward off her implicit offer of a dalliance.

“I meant I would give you gas money,” Ima replied quickly. Her eyes began darting about the room. She hoped the lie covered her obvious innuendo.

“Gas money is
not
the problem. However . . . ” Leotis stopped speaking and pulled his hands away from his ears, clasping them together as though to pray or to ward off Ima, should she decide to rush at him. He spoke slowly, praying he sounded more authoritative doing so. “Some time ago, I truly thought I'd made things clear.”

“Well, yes, sir, you did.” Ima's green eyes danced, turning the color of daiquiri ice, as she clutched the CD to her bosom. “You said that neither me nor what's-her-name . . . ”

“Sharvon . . . ”

“Yes, Sharvon,” she replied. “We shouldn't approach you unless it was about a very urgent spiritual matter.”

“And I meant exactly that.” Leotis could almost hear his own heart beating as Ima began to wiggle like a small puppy trying to throw water off its back. It wasn't hard for him to imagine that because he'd begun staring at the short, formfitting, lime-green one-piece dress that fitted her like a second skin. He could also tell that the top was a soft cotton material, and her huge breasts peeked through, looking like two mountains lying on their backs.

He gulped and prayed there was as much conviction in his next words, because he'd convinced nothing below his belt. “I cannot take you home. Like I just told you, I will call you a cab. Inside your home, alone, is not a place to discuss spiritual matters at all.”

“Only if you say so,” Ima remarked. She tilted her head a little and allowed her long hair to fall to one side of her head. She now felt more in control each time she saw the veins popping on his forehead and his neck, and she could only imagine where else veins were throbbing. She walked toward him, stopping only long enough to plant two quick kisses upon his surprised face and a longer one upon his lips. “You see,” Ima said, “I'm not about to let the sun go down with us being upset with one another. That's not biblical.” Ima's smile grew wide and knowing as she slowly walked out the door.

No sooner had Ima walked out of his office than Leotis sat and his head fell forward onto his desk. He was out of his league and into dangerous territory. His rapidly beating heart began exposing the lie he'd told his head; he'd tried believing that it was okay if more than one woman sought him. He also knew he'd not fought hard enough to stop Ima from kissing him, nor did he want to. “Lord, please help me.” He hadn't kissed a woman in so long. He'd done his best, or so he believed, to remain chaste until the one God had sent arrived.

But Ima had awoken something in him. But truth be told, so had Sharvon. He rose and looked around his office. This was the room where he was supposed to spend time alone with God and prepare to feed the sheep. Instead, he now wondered if a kiss from Sharvon would compare to Ima's. Sharvon was at least ten years younger than Ima, of that he was certain, but would age matter if she were to make him feel like Ima just did? So many women inside the church and without had approached him, and he'd survived with his spiritual man intact. Now torn between two women, it was as though he'd spoken providence when he laughed about having to choose like King Solomon.

Whether Ima meant to or not—and he was certain she had—her touch had quickened him, as though he'd been reborn. It only made him want to explore more and see if a deeper relationship with Sharvon was possible.

Leotis sat down again. He read scriptures and he prayed, but he did not repent.

F
reddie's face turned red with anger as he began pounding on Sister Betty's kitchen countertop. Whether he meant to do it or not, he had managed to break two expensive crystal flower vases. His foot kicked aside the shattered glass strewn among the red roses, which Sister Betty had plucked earlier that day from her garden. “Lord, help me! I can't take this.”

“Freddie, honey, please calm down. Remember your high blood pressure and what the doctor said about you taking it easy.”

He'd been pacing around Sister Betty's kitchen for the past few moments, building up an emotional and lethal combination of anger and disappointment. And he believed he had a good reason. No sooner had he come over for a visit than she began what had become her normal habit for the past month or so. Except today he wasn't in the mood. Today she hadn't even bothered to meet him at the door with a quick peck on his cheek. She hadn't offered him a hot meal, something to drink. There was no concern for how his day had gone. Instead, by the time they'd gone from the side door, down the hallway, and into the kitchen, she'd filled him in, almost in alphabetical order, about the latest soap opera drama of people he'd come to call church nuts. He'd never raised his voice to her before with such venom, but Sister Betty had kicked him to the back of her priority pile without an apology or a notice.

Sister Betty's hands remained inside her apron pockets, but her eyes, wild with surprise, darted about the kitchen. Her head rolled from side to side, as though she were trying to spot the invisible demon that'd somehow invaded her home.
Oh, Lord, he's lost his mind. Father God, I rebuke this deranged and angry demon in your Holy name.

She didn't care about the expensive vases or the colorful flowers she'd tended so carefully. She was, however, concerned about the man she'd given her heart to. This kind and unassumingly quiet and usually shy man she'd planned to marry was lumbering about her kitchen, obviously out of his mind. Finally pulling a hand from one of her apron pockets, she laid it on her head. It was as though she was trying to remember if there'd ever been a sign, aside from the threats to Bea and Sasha, that showed he was capable of becoming so angry and potentially violent.

“This mess has gone on too long,” Freddie scolded, his eyes now narrowing and appearing menacing. “I've never wanted to do anything but love you as Christ loved the church.” He began pacing and slapping his hands together. “That's what a man is supposed to do when he takes a woman as his bride.” He pivoted and pointed at Sister Betty “But your meddling instead of praying has taken over everything. I come over here wanting to discuss our wedding and the honeymoon. But the first thing I hafta hear about is what the doggone drama of the day is between Leotis and Ima. And if it ain't between him and Ima, then it's some craziness between him and Sharvon!”

He was now past caring and dismissed her shaken appearance. He walked over to where she stood cringing and leaning against the dishwasher, apparently for support. “I know I've never challenged you on anything, Betty. Perhaps that's why you felt it was okay to just push me to the side while you interfere with a grown man who's all tangled up betwixt two grown women.” He bared his teeth like a dog about to gnaw on a bone before adding, “So I'm sure you can understand now why I'm wondering where my place in your life is once we say . . . ” He stopped talking. His head dropped. Now speaking barely above a whisper, he added, “That is,
if
we ever say ‘I do.' ”

He said nothing more; he didn't look back as he again kicked at the broken glass. Shards of glass spread out, making tinkling sounds. He stomped out of the kitchen with his heart shattered much the same as those two crystal vases.

Sister Betty couldn't move at all, not even when she heard the thundering sound of a door slamming shut.

 

Sister Betty hadn't ever cried as much as she'd done over the past few minutes, ever since Freddie left. She sat shivering in the darkness of her living room, a darkness that rivaled the pitch blackness of the night sky and the dread that flooded over her.

She was tired all throughout her body. Using her hands for support, she tried to rise up off the sofa. She couldn't. Falling back against it, she began to weep again. She'd had no rebuttal to his fears and accusations. Yet how could she have said no to Leotis. He was more than her pastor; he was her spiritual son. After all, she'd known Leotis longer than she had Freddie.

Leotis was her second chance to experience what it was like to be a mother, since she'd lost her only child. When it began with Ima, she'd convinced herself that he needed her to lean upon as much as she needed him when troubled.

She'd also been convinced that having Freddie in her life would lessen that dependence. And now she'd unintentionally driven him away. “Father God, I've never felt so low and so lost,” she prayed softly. “I've never felt so out of touch with you and your purpose for me. Didn't you send Freddie to me?”

A chill raced through her body as she faced another possibility. “Am I doing this only because I don't want to grow older alone?”

“Cousin Betty, are you okay?”

Sister Betty's body shook and quickly stiffened. Leaning forward, she strained to see who stood in her living room doorway, although she'd already recognized Sharvon's voice.

Sister Betty's voice quivered as she fought to regain control. She'd never heard Sharvon come home. “I'm fine, Sharvon.” As she fell back against the sofa cushion, she turned her head away from her. “I just need a moment of some ‘me and the Lord' time.”

“I promise you that I'm not trying to interfere or question you.” Sharvon's promises were empty, because she'd arrived home about fifteen minutes ago. It was obvious that they'd not heard her as she crept past the kitchen, catching the last moments of their argument.

Despite what Sister Betty had just said, Sharvon walked farther into the living room. She went directly to the end table by the sofa to turn on the lamp. What she clearly saw then was a figure of a woman bearing no resemblance to the strong and rooted-in-God super saint she knew and loved.

Without saying a word, Sharvon pushed aside one of the sofa's back cushions and sat beside Sister Betty. She reached over, grasped her shoulders, embracing her without any resistance. Whatever questions Sharvon had could wait for the moment. The sobbing sounds now coming from Sister Betty had silenced her. All Sharvon could do was rock her in her arms like a baby. Yet knowing that she'd heard Freddie mention her name during that argument still caused Sharvon to wonder what she'd done to make him so angry.

Mentally and physically drained from the fight minutes ago with Sister Betty, Freddie had reached the end of her block. He began walking slowly, holding his head as he did. Crossing the street to go home, he stepped off the curb and right in the path of Leotis's car. The loud blast from the car's horn caused him to jump back onto the curb.

Although it was unusually dark that night, the car's bright headlights lit up Freddie's horrified face. Leotis stuck his head out the car window and yelled, “Trustee Noel, I'm sorry. I almost hit you. I never saw you. Are you okay?”

Freddie, still stunned, looked toward Leotis for a moment. A scowl quickly replaced his look of panic, and then, without saying a word, he began walking away.

Leotis jumped out of his car, leaving it where it'd come to a stop a few feet from the curb. He walked up behind Freddie, whose walk suddenly seemed to speed up. “Trustee Noel, what's wrong?”

Freddie's words were harsh but direct as he spewed them over his shoulder without stopping. “Leave me the hell alone, Reverend.”

Leotis's face morphed. His eyes began squinting, and his mouth fell open. He'd never seen this type of behavior from the trustee, and it was unsettling. He quickly regained his composure. “Wait one moment,” he commanded before he began walking after Freddie again. “You need to tell me what the problem is. You don't just speak to a man of God like that and walk away” Despite his anger, he suddenly remembered he'd left his unlocked car parked on the corner. He turned around. Aiming the car's remote, he locked the car doors. Leotis turned around just in time to see Freddie stumbling.
Lord, not again,
he thought.

Freddie had begun to stagger. He knew he wasn't drunk, yet he was certain he appeared that way. As much as he wanted to get away from Leotis, Sister Betty, and the world at that moment, he could only stop and rest against the front gate of a nearby house.

 

“He couldn't have meant it the way you took it,” Sharvon told Sister Betty. She'd spent several minutes using the same soft and convincing voice that'd won over most juries, hoping it'd work with her cousin. “Every couple, so I hear, argues as their big day grows near. So tonight it was about honeymoon planning. It'll probably be about something just as silly next time.”

She'd listened to her cousin weep to the point of near exhaustion as she told her what'd happened between her and Freddie. “Just give him a couple of days to calm down,” Sharvon said. “It's probably just a case of the pre-wedding jitters.” She took a deep breath, hoping she'd sounded convincing. “Even though this is yours and Freddie's first wedding, it will be the second time you two have tried to get to the altar. He probably feels responsible because he fell ill, and for not having the wedding when you first planned. I'm sure he just doesn't know how to handle it.”

There was some validity to what Sharvon had said. It was true that the first wedding date had been postponed due to Freddie's health, but Sister Betty hadn't been fully forthcoming when she told Sharvon about the argument. It wasn't in her nature or character to divulge everything, and she'd left a lot out, mentioning only that they'd disagreed about the honeymoon. She hadn't wanted to tell Sharvon how she believed she'd come up short as his fiancee. She'd not even mentioned to Sharvon Freddie's anger over the way Leotis had mishandled the situation between Ima and himself. Instead, when Sharvon mentioned she'd clearly heard her name called out, Sister Betty had shaken her head, so as to deny it without saying so.
Lord, please help me. I know a half-truth is still a whole lie.

She rose and walked into the kitchen, hoping Sharvon would stay behind, and she'd not have to answer more questions. Instead, Sharvon followed her. Words of explanation still hadn't come to mind, and of course, Sister Betty wanted to find a way, again, not to respond to any questions.

 

While Sister Betty piddled around in her kitchen, trying to avoid Sharvon's questions, down the block Leotis had his hands full trying to understand Freddie.

Leotis had reached out to Freddie, catching him before his body hit the pavement.

“Get ya h-hands off me,” Freddie stuttered. He tried wiggling out of Leotis's grasp but couldn't.

Despite the disrespect he felt from the way Freddie had spoken to him moments ago, Leotis, being stronger, placed an arm under the skinny man, leading him back to his car. Once they reached it, he almost had to fold Freddie in half to get him inside the car.

Leotis climbed inside the car, and when he looked toward the passenger seat, where he'd deposited Freddie moments ago, he saw that Freddie had pulled his body into a fetal position. He looked uncomfortable. Leotis adjusted his rearview mirror, saying, “I'm taking you to the hospital immediately.”

But before starting the engine, he glanced over at Freddie a second time. That time what he saw made him wince. Although the inside of the car was unlit, he could see that Freddie's face had taken on a jaundiced pallor, with a grayish color mixed in. “I haven't said anything, but you haven't looked that well to me in several weeks.” He caught himself. The last thing he needed to do was to criticize Freddie or make him feel as bad as he looked.

“No hospital,” Freddie blurted. “Take me home.”

“You need to see a doctor!” Leotis had begun easing the car into reverse to turn it around and head to the hospital.

Like a jack-in-the-box, Freddie's body sprang forward. “I need to go home.”

If he can unfold himself like that, then he's serious about not going to the hospital.
Although conflicted, Leotis gave in. “Whatever you say.” There was definitely something wrong with Freddie. He could think of only one person who could make Freddie do what was best for him. “I know what to do.”

Leotis completed the U-turn. He began driving back up the block, toward Sister Betty's.

As ill as Freddie felt at that moment, he was suddenly aware that Leotis meant to take him to the last place he wanted to go. “No!” Freddie yelled with strength he didn't know he still had. “Not to her house. Please, just take me home.”