Sister Betty Says I Do (24 page)

“I need you to stop being a liar and a thief,” Sister Betty accused. She walked slowly toward where he stood with his jaw slack and the flowers in disarray.

“I'm no liar and no thief.” Freddie looked at her, his head spinning from how, in seconds, things had changed, refusing to believe what she'd just called him, and thinking that perhaps she was just too overwrought to think straight.

“You lied to me about that so-called high blood pressure,” she told him when she was close enough to slap him, should she want to. “And you stole my heart and my dreams.”

Freddie was speechless. He dropped the flowers and the facade. “I'm sorry, Honey Bee. I didn't know how to tell you.”

“You knew how to ask me to marry you, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Then it would've been the same way if you could've told me that you had cancer.”

“You mean on my knees?”

“If need be,” Sister Betty told him. “We could've both gotten down on our knees and prayed about it. You acted as though you didn't know that I had favor with God.”

Freddie thought for a moment before he answered. He wanted to weigh his chances of her not going off on him again. He decided he'd trust God to hold her in place. “I hear what you say, Honey Bee. But you didn't act like you had favor with God.”

“What do you mean?” Against her will, she could feel her hands balling up, as though she needed to hit or lash out at something.

“I mean that if you were all that certain about having favor with God, then you would've never believed God didn't want us to be man and wife.”

It was out there, and no way could he take back the words. The hurt look that spread across her face shook him, and he began to struggle to put together an apology.

“I know that now,” she finally said. “Between God reminding me that without Him I'm at the Devil's beck and call and me loving you so much, I thought I wanted to just lie down and die. I felt like I'd never had a Christian walk a day in my life.”

“I haven't been led by the cross for as long as you have, Honey Bee, but God sure knew how to get my attention. I wasted all that time pushing you and others away because I'd forgotten that it's our faith that pleases God. God was just testing me, because He knew I wasn't going to need no stem cell transplants or such. Most of the time when I went for checkups, I was telling other folks to look to God, and here it was I'd come home and pop a chemo pill and do just the opposite.”

Freddie stopped and led Sister Betty to one of the chairs in her room. He gathered what was left of the bouquet and handed it to her. “But when it's all said and done, this is what's left of my heart when you're not in my life, just pieces of something once so beautiful.”

Sister Betty took the flowers and looked them over. She stood and tossed the flowers with their broken stems and torn petals into the wastebasket. “I'm not taking no chances, so we're gonna have to start all over again.”

Freddie's timid brown eyes suddenly glowed. “You mean, just the two of us?”

“Yes,” Sister Betty replied. “I'm not babysitting grown folks no more. If they can't get out of their own fixes, then they'll have to learn to pray their way through.”

“Do you think we should put our foot down with Leotis and Sharvon? I know they're walking around, feeling a bit guilty about something. Maybe we'll let them know that they may be pastor and family, but we've got our own lives to live.”

“And maybe we just don't tell them nothing. Let them figure it out, like we had to. I mean it when I say that I'm focusing on God and you. Them others gotta make their own way,” Sister Betty insisted.

“So what should we do first?” Freddie asked as he sat down next to her. “You just tell me, and I'll hop right on it.”

“Well, Freddie Rabbit,” Sister Betty teased, “we could start by planning this honeymoon properly.”

“That's a great place to start,” Freddie said, laughing. “At least we can concentrate on that and not have to worry about the wedding reception.”

Sister Betty's hands flew up to her head. “Oh my goodness, I forgot about that. We still have to stop Bea and Sasha.”

Freddie began laughing again while he patted her hand. “Don't you worry about that,” he told her. “It's already taken care of. I'd been working on something with Batty, and I didn't have a chance to tell you about it before we had our little . . . ” He stopped and took her other hand and continued. “Before we had our little misunderstanding.”

“Well, can you tell me now?” Sister Betty looked at the way Freddie held her hands. He held them tight, as if he thought she'd use them to hit him if she didn't like what he had to say.

“I'll tell you, but I don't want you to get mad or nothing. Just remember that I had gone ahead and done some of the grunt work while you tended to Leotis.”

Sister Betty pulled back, but not enough to get her hands out of his. “Grunt work? What does that mean?”

“It means that when I tell you what I and Batty did about Bea and Sasha's meddling, you'll be grunting from holding your stomach tight from laughing.”

Somehow Sister Betty didn't know whether to believe him or not, but she didn't want to start again with doubts.

At the same time Freddie doubted she believed him, but he didn't want to start again with a fight.

While Sister Betty and Freddie were in her bedroom, going back and forth, trying to tie up the loose ends of their wedding planning, Leotis was at home, looking out of his living room window and wondering what was going on inside Sister Betty's home. When he'd stood earlier on Sister Betty's porch, Thurgood needed to use a bathroom and Leotis offered to let him use the one in his house.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” Thurgood said when he returned to the living room. “I'd have held my pee until my eyeballs turned yellow before I went inside my cousin Betty's house.”

“Not a problem,” Leotis replied without addressing Thurgood's colorful descriptions or outlook on life. “I don't hear any loud noises or see police cars pulling up. I guess the trustee is safe inside.”

“Too bad the same thing can't be said for you,” Thurgood said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood.

“Do you think somehow I'm involved in whatever is going on over there?” Leotis pulled the window curtains shut before adding, “You must be joking, because I've done nothing.”

“Oh, really?” Thurgood replied. The temperature inside the living room suddenly plunged when he made eye contact with Leotis. To also show he was serious, Thurgood planted his feet in a wide stance. “Well, then, let me count the ways.” Thurgood began his sermon slowly. He would take his time so that Leotis could understand it all. “My cousin Betty was always open with you, and yet when it came down to choosing what was best for her, you chose to keep the trustee's secret about his cancer.”

“He asked me to do it!” Without thinking, Leotis covered his ears with his hands so no further accusations could enter.

Thurgood jabbed his finger at Leotis's chest, but without touching him, and rebuked him. “I know you a reverend and all, and you got a habit of judging folks that sin differently from you, but I'm asking you to keep your mouth shut until I'm finished.” Thurgood retreated several feet out of Leotis's personal space, his eyes in a locked position as he delivered his verdict. “All this nonsense with my cousin Sharvon—you pretending to like her like she's your sister—that's a load of crap, and you know it. Before you came along, she focused on nothing but being the best damn attorney my family ever had. And then you step up with your ripped muscles and pretty looks, your pretty hair, fast track-running routines, and your fast-talking mouth full of sermons for the spiritually challenged, and now she's walking around, arguing not only with juries but with herself, too.”

Leotis rolled his neck as though preparing to fight. “You are a guest at this moment, Thurgood, and I'm a reverend who's heard enough—”

“That's really too bad, because despite what you've heard, I've not said enough,” Thurgood interrupted before swallowing hard. Then he lit into Leotis again, this time with a steady, lower-pitched voice and furrowed brow. “That simple but pretty woman child, Ima, is not your soul to save all willy-nilly. Anyone inside of God's circle who's called to preach and who stays prayed up oughta discern a hurt person when they see or hear one. Ima's go around hurting other people because she's been hurt, and I'm not talking about just recently, looking for love in all the wrong places and from all the wrong people. I've known Sasha Pray Onn and that bunch of scalawags she calls a family for as long as my cousin Betty has. That girl Ima grew up in a world of hurt. It don't take a rocket scientist to figure out that when you put a pretty flower in some manure, it's either gonna be a gorgeous blossom or a stinky one, and in Ima's case, she's managed to be both.”

“I've done nothing to Ima!” His mind conveniently dismissed the way she'd kissed him quickly and where she'd placed her soft lips, and how much he'd liked it.

“Yeah, well, from where I'm perched”—Thurgood pointed his finger again at Leotis—“you ain't done nothing for her, either.”

Leotis was determined to show that this was his home. He wouldn't take insults in his own house without repercussions, so he walked quickly to his front door. He opened it and pointed toward the street, telling Thurgood, “I'm sure you know what this action means.”

“Sure I know what it means,” Thurgood replied. “It means you want this whole neighborhood to hear me yell how unholy you've been acting. You want everyone on this block to learn how your semi-immature womanizing has disrespected my cousin Betty's relationship and God in the process.”

“You're judging me! How are you going to stand here in my house and judge me with accusations that you know nothing about?” Leotis slammed the door and started toward Thurgood, stopping an arm's length away. “You who spent years in and out of prison and used a gun to do your dirt before you claimed salvation has the nerve to judge me?”

“Listen here, Leotis. I'm talking to you man-to-man and not deacon to reverend. Let's not get things twisted, and please don't come all up in my face, talking crazy, just because I had permission to piss in your bathroom.” Thurgood moved aside, leaving Leotis with his mouth agape. “I'm just a man who tells it like it is.”

D
elilah's long blond tresses spilled down one side of her head as she leaned across the table inside Le Posh. She smiled at several of the other churchwomen. They sat at a nearby table, wearing vogue designer dresses and jewelry, and they acknowledged her by saying “Praise the Lord. God bless you, Sister Delilah.” Many others around the room had simply nodded and waved when she entered the restaurant. Like the other women, she, too, had dressed to impress. And impressed she had. Delilah's genetics defied the age on her Medicare card.

“How long are you going to read that menu?”

Delilah looked up and began to smile. “Not long.” She nodded toward the door. “I was just waiting for our other guest to arrive.”

Ima entered Le Posh and was relieved to see that it wasn't as crowded as before. When the waiter escorted her over to where Delilah sat, Ima put on a fake smile. It was curiosity that'd brought her there when Delilah had all but ordered her to come, but once she saw Sharvon was there, too, her smile faded and the real Ima came through.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk to me and buy me dinner,” Ima hissed at Delilah. Without looking at or mentioning Sharvon, she added, “I do have more important things to do than participate in one of your group sessions. I even took the express bus to get here, because my car is acting up.”

Sharvon didn't say a word; she cocked her head and gave a “What the hell?” look to Delilah.

“Just sit down, Ima,” Delilah ordered as she ignored Sharvon's questioning stare. Knowing there were others watching them, she smiled the entire time.

Normally, Delilah wouldn't dare relax her elbows on a table in such a ritzy place, but this time she did and she rested her chin upon her hands. “In about five minutes the Upstate First Ladies Club is going to meet. I'm not a first lady, but I know these women from some of my seminars. I told them I needed to be here to listen so I could help them at our next meeting.”

Sharvon was the first to speak. “So what does this have to do with me? I'm no first lady.”

Removing her hands from under her chin, Delilah sat back. “You're not one now, but you want to be.”

“Well, that's hardly my problem or goal,” Ima lied, smiling at the obvious state of discomfort Delilah had placed Sharvon in.

“Actually, it is your problem,” Delilah told Ima. “You wanted to be a first lady about a year ago, but it seems the original first lady beat you to the title. And don't sit here and pretend you ain't still trying for the gold.”

“I guess she told you,” Sharvon murmured.

“Don't be tossing stones, Sharvon. You could get some nasty cuts living in that glass house of yours,” Delilah warned.

Delilah straightened her shoulders and began talking softly, changing her manner as she began to speak. “You two think you know all there is about being the wife of a man of God. And I don't care if it's a small church or a megachurch. It takes a special anointing for a first lady to succeed in the role. Many women are not anointed. Some women have selfish motives and want all the glory but don't want to put in none of the work. Being the first lady is much more than fashionable hats and designer clothes, fancy cars and homes.

“You have to be a woman of high moral fabric. You have to know when to speak and when not to. A first lady needs to be thoroughly versed in psychiatry, and most had better know how to take care of their men at home. Most of the women you see here tonight found out the hard way.” Delilah suddenly fell silent, as did all the others in the room.

A tall and slender, fortyish-looking, beige-skinned woman rose from her seat. She had large cornflower-blue eyes and wore little make-up, yet she looked as if she had walked straight out of
Glamour
magazine. Looking directly ahead, as though she knew all eyes were upon her, she walked into the center of the room, where a small table had been set up. A handheld microphone lay on top.

The woman reached into her Leiber dandelion suede gator handbag, a handbag that looked all of the fifteen thousand dollars it'd cost, and withdrew a pair of glasses. After donning the glasses, she quickly scanned the papers in her hands before laying them aside.

“Now,
she's
got it going on,” Ima whispered. “Those collection plates must be overflowing for sure.”

Delilah remained silent, and Sharvon shook her head at Ima's ridiculous conclusion.

The woman looked over at Delilah and nodded, acknowledging her presence. “Allow me to introduce myself,” she began. “My name is Althea Love. My husband is the head bishop, Arthur Love, overseer of Jehovah Jireh Temple in Piedmont. Of course, that makes me the first lady.”

Vigorous applause followed before she waved her hand for it to cease and began speaking again. “Although we all are familiar with and know our sister Delilah Dupree Jewel-Pillar, she has brought along guests today.” She turned slightly and looked at Sharvon, who'd turned in her chair to face the center of the room. “Allow me to introduce Ms. Sharvon Becton. Ms. Becton is a partner at the prestigious Singer, Berry, and Becton law firm, which is not too far from here.”

Sharvon nodded when she heard the obligatory applause. She turned and smiled at Delilah but was surprised to see that Delilah remained stone-faced. She quickly turned back in her seat to face the woman who appeared ready to introduce Ima.

First Lady Althea pointed to Ima. “To the left of our beloved Sister Delilah is her other guest. Please welcome to our meeting today Ms. Ima Hellraiser. Ima is the niece of Crossing Over Sanctuary's church mother president, Mother Sasha Pray Onn.”

Unlike the applause Sharvon received, whispering began and ended, with just a few of the women lightly tapping their hands together, as if trying to wave off something nasty. The difference in enthusiasm appeared noticeable to First Lady Love, and she said, “C'mon, ladies. Is this how we show agape love to our guests?” That time the applause was louder, but the disdain remained on some of the women's faces.

Sharvon was surprised at how she suddenly felt sorry for Ima, who suddenly looked pale and embarrassed. As much as Ima had done and said some things Sharvon felt were meant to get under her skin, Sharvon didn't appreciate the obvious lack of respect coming from the so-called women of God.

Delilah still said nothing. Her gaze remained upon First Lady Althea.

One of the women read the minutes from the last meeting, and then it was time for the women to suggest topics or review current issues that'd not been resolved.

“I definitely feel as though what I brought to the table at our last meeting was not resolved,” a voice from the floor announced.

“Yes, First Lady Magbee?” First Lady Love moved aside so that the woman could come to the table and use the microphone.

First Lady Magbee rushed over and grabbed the microphone. With one hand on her ample hip, she narrowed her eyes and began from where she'd left off while still seated. “And you can believe, I don't aim to leave here today with it remaining the same.”

Both Sharvon's and Ima's mouths dropped, and they even managed to give one another a strange look of disbelief.

It was Sharvon who first spoke up, whispering, “What in the world could she be upset about?”

“I'm thinking the same thing,” Ima replied, shaking her head. “Look at her.”

The woman, short and squatty with a pretty face, wore enough heavy and expensive jewelry around her neck and wrists to never have to go to a gym to work out.

First Lady Magbee continued. “I've been telling all of you we need to come clean. I know I'm not the only one who's sitting up in church every Sunday and smiling as though everything is okay.”

The eyes of most of the women fell upon Sharvon and Ima. They quickly looked away, as though to say, “We have no idea what this woman is talking about.”

First Lady Magbee went on to reiterate how she needed the first ladies to tell their congregations the truth. “Every week we're standing by the door with our illustrious husbands, smiling while we watch either their baby mamas sticking out a hand for a supposed handshake or some money or one of their men on the side doing the same. I'm sick of it!”

Again, all eyes fell upon Delilah's table, where Sharvon and Ima sat gape-mouthed. Delilah still hadn't said a word or made a move.

First Lady Love gently took the microphone out of Lady Magbee's shaking hand. “I don't believe this is the sort of conversation we need have in front of our guests,” she reminded Lady Magbee. “I'm certain our sister Delilah had other things she wanted discussed with these young women, who, as I understand it, aspire to be first ladies, too.”

Lady Magbee held a jewelry-laden hand out in front of her before she turned and snatched the microphone back. “And I don't believe this is the sort of conversation that should be kept a secret in the damn closet, along with your husband!”

Sharvon and Ima sat almost head-to-head when they moved their chairs in closer to see and hear better. Delilah still remained silent, except now she was smiling.

 

All the way back to Pelzer, Ima and Sharvon tried to outdo each other as they discussed the woes of the first ladies at the meeting.

“Have mercy,” Sharvon blurted. “I've been in a ton of courtrooms. I've heard all sorts of testimonies, and some things have been major surprises—”

“Yeah,” Ima butted in. “But I know you ain't never heard no mess like that. How they gonna sit up there and brag about how long they chased the man and wore him down, using every trick in the book, and then complain? In fact, I'm still shocked that those ungrateful women would air their dirty laundry and yet couldn't forgive their husband's indiscretions after they got all that hush money and gifts.”

“Well, I've got my pride, and there aren't enough gifts in the world for me to put up with all that nonsense,” Sharvon commented. “When two of them nearly went to blows when it came out that their husbands were truly low-down with their down-low activities, I was almost ready to order some popcorn. Unbelievable!”

Out of nowhere Sharvon and Ima suddenly gave each other high fives and laughed.

With the exception of earlier ordering them into the car because they'd wanted to stay and watch a couple of first ladies throw down, Delilah had hardly said a word. Every so often she peered into the rearview mirror at them. She'd start shaking her head at Sharvon and Ima, sitting in the backseat, trading observations of what they'd called “dumb moves by supposedly smart women.”

“It wasn't like all of them still had youth on their side or were particularly good-looking,” Ima continued. She kept jiggling in her seat and thumping her head, as though she were the crazy one. “I just don't get it. The way they told it, they all had the fine homes, their kids in boarding schools, and got a little sexual touch-up every once in a while from their whorish husbands. It's not the ideal situation, but I don't know of one that is.”

“Perfect or not,” Sharvon said, “if those men felt like they weren't ready to marry, then those desperate women now sitting and complaining, with their titles of first lady, shouldn't have chased after those men in the first place. I'm certain they got some type of signal from their husbands' hesitancy or behavior before they got to the altar.”

No sooner had the words left Sharvon's mouth than Delilah finally spoke up. “Bingo!” She quickly reached beside her and grabbed two books, flipping them over into the backseat. One nearly popped Ima upside her head. “You two got the first lesson. I need you to read this book I just gave you so you can quickly learn the second one before you really are caught in a mess. God is not going to change His plans just to fit yours. Stop trying to use a plan B when God's plan A is so much better and predestinated.” Delilah then began humming before she murmured, “Ain't no truer saying than youth being wasted on the young.”

Sharvon and Ima each took the paperback books, turning them over, as though looking for a key to unlock their insides.

Sharvon began reading the title on the front cover.
“Tell Prince Charming to Keep that Slipper—”

“
I'm Standing on My Own Two Feet
,” Ima added as she read the last part of the book's title. “Who in the world is Elder Olivia Stith-Bynum? I've never heard of her,” she told Delilah.

“Sometimes when I'm holding a workshop just for women, and single women in particular, I have Elder Stith-Bynum as a guest speaker, or I'll have the women read her book for our discussion,” Delilah explained. “You just make sure you two read it, 'cause I got Betty's wedding coming up, and I don't have time for the craziness you two are laying on folks. I'm hoping when you've finished with it, you'll put the brakes on your nonsense.”

Delilah took a breath and added, “I ain't asking you two to become good or best friends. I ain't that crazy and as dumb as you are acting, and neither of you are that crazy, either. I'm just saying that for the sake of your self-esteem and that you not feed that male ego beast that's roaming between the reverend's ears and his thighs, that you do better for yourselves.”

Ima leaned over closer to Sharvon than she'd ever wanted and whispered, “What did she just say?”

Sharvon tilted her head in Ima's direction and whispered, “She said we should cut it out trying to get Leotis. Get our heads out of our backsides, and for us not to expect to share make-up tips or clothes.”

The car remained quiet as Delilah pulled off Highway 85. It was easier to drop off Ima first at her apartment near the Promised Land before heading toward Sister Betty's house. It was obvious by the numerous boarded-up homes, rusted car remains in driveways, and other blight that Ima didn't live in the best of neighborhoods. Sharvon reacted to it by biting her lower lip, and she was about to cower in the backseat, as though she didn't want anyone to see her, but she caught Delilah's disapproving look as she watched her reaction in the rearview mirror.