The Choir Director 2 (7 page)

As I entered the church office, I quickly assessed the people in the room. Bishop TK Wilson stood much taller than I had expected based on his photo on the church website. The first lady's photo also painted an entirely different image than she projected in person. The hoochie-mama crop top and body-hugging pants would have been enough to get her tossed out of my church back home.

They were deep in conversation, so I had a few moments to observe the dynamics between them before they noticed me. I still couldn't believe that I was standing in the church where Aaron Mackie worked.

“Hello. May I help you?” The bishop moved toward me, causing his wife to swivel around and check me out. I lowered my eyes, attempting to appear shy and submissive. I could tell just from the few moments I'd spent observing him that he would feel protective of me if I came across as a nice Southern Christian girl.

“I'm new to the area,” I said as demurely as I could, “and I've heard so many amazing things about First Jamaica Ministries. I'm looking for a new church family…and a job.” I forced myself to wince when I said the word “job,” as if it were too big a dream to imagine.

“Where you from?” Monique took a few steps closer to her husband. Game recognized game, so I was well aware she was about to lift her leg and piss on her territory if I didn't play my part right. And of course I would play it right. The last thing I wanted was for Miss Thing to be my enemy.

“I'm from Virginia,” I said quietly.

“What part of Virginia you from? That's my home state,” Bishop Wilson said, telling me something I already knew. I had done my homework.

“Petersburg. I'm a member of Bishop Thomas's church, Mount Calvary.”

“I know that place. He's a good man.”

“I've also seen your choir on television,” I raved. “We don't have anything like that in Petersburg.”

“Best choir in the world. We just won the championship,” Monique announced, beaming at her husband.

“If he's around, I'd love to meet your choir director. I grew up singing in my church choir. My grandmother told me that there's no better way to feel like a part of the community than to join a church choir.”

“He's taking a little time off,” Monique said, giving me the once-over. Maybe I had come across as too eager. I should pull back a little, I decided.

While she looked ready to give me the brush-off, Bishop Wilson was still welcoming. “Well,” he said, “you might not be able to join the choir right away, but it just so happens we are in need of a church secretary. Since you're looking for a job, I may be able to help you out.”

I saw a tense look pass between him and his wife. Clearly they were not of one mind when it came to hiring me.

“Wow,” I said, “it looks like I came along at the right time. Must be divine intervention or something.”

The bishop raised his eyebrows at his wife as if reminding her who was boss. After a beat, she turned to me with a fake smile.

“Do you type?” she asked, though it was obvious that she really couldn't care less about my office skills. “Of course, I must tell you that this would only be a temporary position.”

Since the demure Southern-girl thing wasn't working on her, I decided to change it up a little. Based on the way she dressed, it was clear that the first lady didn't give a damn what anyone thought of her, so strong and independent was probably my best bet for bonding with her—which I still intended to accomplish, even though she obviously had no interest in me right now.

“Yes, ma'am. I helped put myself through college working as a secretary,” I answered. It didn't seem to change her demeanor at all.

“Mm-hmm,” was all she said.

“Where you staying, child?” the bishop asked. Obviously he was more impressed by my country-girl innocent act. It was beginning to feel like I would have to be two totally different people around them.

“I have a room at the Y.” I saw him flinch. “It's clean,” I insisted.

Bishop Wilson shook his head. “Oh, no. That will not do. We'll figure something out…What's your name?”

“Oh, yes. We've been so rude,” the first lady said, seeming halfway sincere. Either she was softening a little, or she was just giving up the fight for now. Whether I could get her on my side would remain to be seen.

“My name is Desiree Jones,” I answered.

“Well, Desiree, let my wife show you where you'll be working,” Bishop Wilson said, and I followed her out of the office, trying not to burst into a smile. I had been hoping to get my foot in the door at the church, but to have them offer me a job on the spot was almost too good to be true. Fate was definitely on my side.

Bishop Wilson stuck his head out the door and said, “By the way, Monique, we still need to finish our other conversation.”

“But I'll be busy training Desiree here,” she answered with a little bit of attitude.

“I won't let up until you tell me where Tia has been,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders but didn't answer him.

“Don't worry. I know where you live,” he joked as he headed back into his office.

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I was too busy marveling at my good luck to really care. The first lady led me to a small, neat desk. It was obvious that someone else worked there because of the personal belongings on top.

I spotted a framed photo on the desk and my heart started beating faster. I picked it up, asking, “Who's the happy couple?”

The first lady looked at the picture and sighed. “Oh, that's Tia, our permanent secretary. The man is Aaron Mackie, our choir director, and also her former fiancé.”

Her use of the word “former” confused me. I was just at the man's bachelor party not too long ago, and he sure as hell acted like he was ready to get married the next morning.

“Very nice. I guess they're married now, then?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I pressed for more information.

She sighed again. Whatever it was, something had her surely vexed. “Well, if you're working here you'll find out sooner or later, so I might as well tell you. She left him standing at the altar last weekend. That's why she's not here.”

“Oh, my. That's terrible.” I shook my head, staring at the man in the photo. “How could anyone do that to him?”

She snatched the picture out of my hand and placed it in the bottom drawer of the desk. “You shouldn't judge someone that you don't know,” she said in a tone that let me believe Tia was off-limits as a subject of gossip.

“Oh, no, ma'am. I'm not judging,” I said, regretting my slipup. I did not want to get on this woman's bad side. “It's just sad. They look so happy together.”

“Yeah, it is sad,” she said, then promptly changed the subject. “So, we have two phone lines here…”

She proceeded to tell me how to field certain calls; which ones I should patch through to the bishop right away, and which ones I should just politely take a message.

She was still explaining when the phone rang. A quick glance at the caller ID made my heart skip a beat, and when I looked at the first lady, I saw that she was a little uncomfortable herself.

“It's Aaron,” she said, her hand hovering over the receiver like she couldn't decide if she wanted to answer the call. I gave her an out.

“It's my job, First Lady. Shouldn't I answer it?” I asked. She pulled her hand back, looking relieved that she didn't have to pick it up.

“Hello, First Jamaica Ministries, this is Desiree. How can I help you?” I glanced at Monique and she nodded her approval, so I guess my voice hadn't betrayed my nerves.

“This is Aaron Mackie. I was calling to see if there were any messages for me.” His voice sent a little chill through me. It was sexy but sad.

“Um, just a minute, please.” I covered the phone and whispered his question to the first lady. She shook her head.

“No, I'm sorry. No messages, Mr. Mackie.” After a quick thank-you, he hung up.

I placed the phone on the receiver, my heart still racing. I turned to the first lady hoping she couldn't see how flustered I was, but she seemed pretty distracted by her own thoughts. I wasn't really sure what was going on, but it must have been something big, because Aaron Mackie's wedding never happened, and the first lady appeared to be pretty freaked out by a simple phone call.

Given her quick reaction when I spoke about the runaway bride before, I knew enough not to comment on the fact that I had just spoken to the jilted groom. I must have played it correctly, because she seemed to warm up to me after that. She got back to my training as if the call had never happened.

“So, your day starts at nine a.m. and usually ends at five,” she said.

As I listened to her drone on about the particulars of my secretarial duties, I didn't have a moment to process my feelings. I was so close to achieving my dream of getting near Aaron Mackie, but I had to remain cool.

Then, as if things weren't already going well enough for me, Monique made an offer that sweetened the deal. “You know, the church owns a small apartment building not too far from here, and we do have a vacancy at the moment. It needs work, but if you like, I can talk to the bishop about letting you stay there.”

“Really, are you sure?” Everything was falling into place even better than I could have hoped for. Someone was watching over me, for sure.

“I'm sure he wouldn't have it any other way,” she said. “At least now he won't be worrying about you.” She gave me a small smile that appeared to be genuine, and I felt a sense of victory. “Come on, let's tell him.”

I followed her back into the office. Bishop Wilson was sitting behind his desk, going over some paperwork.

“We're going to give Desiree that apartment that was just vacated,” she announced as we walked in. I wanted to laugh out loud. She had told me she was going to talk to him about it, but here she was
telling
him what he was going to do. This sista was not meek by any stretch of the imagination.
I could take a few lessons from her
, I thought.

“Fantastic,” he beamed, not bothered in the least that his wife was making decisions in his church.

A knock caused him to look up toward the doorway. “Pippie, come on in here,” he said.

I turned around to see a man in a blue janitor's uniform with a big, easygoing grin on his face. I recognized him instantly; he was one of the guys I saw at Aaron's bachelor party.

He stepped into the office and said, “I fixed those gutters, so the next time it rains there won't be any problem.”

“Thank you,” the bishop said, but then a look of concern crossed his face. His mind was obviously not on the gutter situation. “Pippie, I was wondering if you'd seen Aaron,” he said.

Wow, there was his name coming up again. Either the failed wedding had everyone around here pretty upset, or they were all as obsessed with the choir director as I was.

Pippie shook his head. “Me and Ross saw him the other night when his momma left town. I offered to take him fishing this weekend, but he just wants to be left alone. He'll be all right, though. We'll figure something out to help take his mind off of everything.”

“Well, as long as he has good, loyal friends like you and continues to love the Lord, ain't nothing the devil can do,” the bishop responded.

“Amen,” I chimed in. They all turned toward me, looking as if they'd forgotten I was even in the room. “Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude,” I said. “Your words just reminded me of something my father used to say all the time: There's nothing in the world that can stand up against your faith.”

Bishop Wilson nodded. He seemed pleased once again by my good-Christian-girl act.

“Have I met you?” Pippie asked, sizing me up. Thank God I'd been smart enough to wear a mask the night of the bachelor party.

“This is Desiree Jones,” Bishop Wilson said. “She just moved to New York. She's going to be helping out until Tia gets back.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. I hope you stay in our little community,” he said, and I realized I wasn't the only actor in the room. This guy's polite greeting was a far cry from the lecherous partygoer he'd been the other night. In fact, he was the one trying to play grab-ass with me for a dollar.

“Now that I'm here, I can't imagine ever leaving,” I said.

“You'll love being church secretary. It puts you in a position to know everything that's going on,” Pippie informed me.

I smiled at the group of people watching me. Yeah, this was exactly where I wanted to be. Things couldn't have worked better for me if I had hit the lottery.

I woke up with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the kind that demands immediate action around it. Although Monique still wouldn't tell me where Tia was, I did feel we were working toward the same goal: helping Aaron and Tia fix their problems and possibly getting them back together. Unfortunately, we weren't getting very far. Last night, Monique had tried calling Tia and I had reached out to Aaron, but neither of us had any luck contacting either of them. Aaron's voice mail was full, so I couldn't even leave him a message.

As I drove to the church to start my day, I was determined that I would make some headway with Aaron. If he didn't answer my calls, then I would go find him. He shouldn't be alone during a time like this.

When I pulled into my reserved spot in the church parking lot, I saw Pippie and Ross seated on the church steps, deep in conversation. As I got out of the car and walked toward them, Pippie tapped Ross and they shut up in a hurry. Now, that's not totally unusual when the pastor of the church shows up, because people have a tendency not to want me to see or hear them in any negative light. It comes with the job. However, these two weren't those type of churchgoers; they were also my friends.

“Gentlemen, I'm going to assume you weren't out here talking about football, so what's on your minds?”

“We're a little worried about Aaron,” Pippie admitted.

“No, Bishop, we're a lot worried about Aaron. I was hoping you could talk him into coming back to work,” Ross added, sounding as worried as I felt. “Aaron's always depended on the church and choir to help him through tough times, but not with this.”

“I've reached out to him several times,” I said, “but his phone keeps going straight to voice mail, and that's full.”

“Maybe you should stop by his place,” Pippie suggested. Ross gave him a quick elbow in the ribs, which was clearly meant to end the conversation, but I wasn't about to let that happen.

“Gentlemen, what's going on?” I asked, knowing that these were good men and neither would feel comfortable lying to me. “I want the truth.”

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“I can't help him if I don't know what's going on,” I advised them.

Pippie spoke up hesitantly. “We just left Aaron's place. We tried to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn't even let us in. I smelled alcohol on his breath.” He shook his head sadly. “Bishop, he was drunk at nine o'clock in the morning.”

“You don't know that for sure,” Ross snapped protectively.

“I know what alcohol smells like, Ross,” Pippie replied, not holding back now. “And I know what I saw the other night.”

Ross remained silent, frowning at Pippie for what he probably saw as a betrayal of Aaron. I could understand it, I suppose. As his manager, Ross had an instinct to protect Aaron's image, but it was misguided loyalty at the moment.

“Ross, whether you know it or not, we are the three best friends Aaron has, and this is not the time to protect him. We need transparency in order to really help him,” I counseled.

Fortunately, Pippie saw things my way and kept talking. “He was at a bar the other night, women all over him, getting drunk. It was like he wasn't himself.”

It took longer for Ross to come around, but Pippie just stared him down until he relented. “Yeah,” Ross started. “When we tried to talk some sense into him, he lost it. He basically told us to screw ourselves and leave him alone. He's in real trouble, Bishop. It's like he don't care about nothing. The barmaid he was with the other night is a real cokehead.”

Pippie asked the question that had us all worried at the moment: “I know he got hit hard, but it's not like him to be self-destructive. What if he goes someplace that he can't come back from?”

“It's up to us to make sure that doesn't happen.” They both nodded their agreement. “And with that, gentlemen, I think it's time I paid our choir director a visit.”

I hated the idea of just popping up on Aaron without notice, but by the time I parked, I realized it was my only choice. Aaron's car stood out because it was alternate side of the street parking, and judging by the number of tickets on his windshield, he hadn't bothered to move the car in three or four days.

He lived in a second-floor walkup, and I could hear loud music thumping from his apartment as I ascended the staircase. If I didn't know about the heartache he was going through, I would think he was having a party up there.

I rang the doorbell several times but got no answer. For a split second I thought about walking away, but that was probably just what he was hoping I'd do. I couldn't let him off the hook that easily, especially if he was as bad as Pippie and Ross said. I started banging on the door, intent on pounding until he finally opened it. I had no concern about waking anybody else in the building, because it was half past ten in the morning—and there was no way anyone was sleeping with Aaron's music blasting the way it was. After a few committed moments, my efforts paid off.

“Who the fuck is—?” Aaron, wearing only underwear and a robe, flung open the door like a wild man. The alcohol on his breath nearly knocked me over.

“Bishop? What are you doing here?” As drunk as he sounded, he was still alert enough to pull his robe closed to cover himself.

“I came to see my choir director. You still are the church's choir director, aren't you?”

It took him a second to answer. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good, 'cause it's time for you to get back to work.” I pushed past him, getting a whiff of his unshowered body as I entered the apartment. What I found inside was even more distressing than his disheveled appearance. “What the hell is this?”

I was looking at the remnants of a wild party. Marijuana and empty liquor bottles littered the table. The only glimmer of hope was the fact that there was no evidence of cocaine in the room. But if I thought weed and alcohol were the extent of his debauchery, I soon learned I was mistaken as my eyes rested on a trail of shiny thongs, bras, and six-inch heels leading to the bedroom. I turned back to Aaron, who was looking a little wobbly.

“Bishop, this isn't a good time,” he said, leaning against the wall for support. “Why don't I take a shower and meet you down at the church?” He cast his eyes downward, avoiding my angry glare.

I wasn't about to let him dismiss me. This boy was in serious spiritual trouble. I made a beeline for the bedroom.

“Seriously, this isn't a good time!” he called out in a panic.

“The hell it isn't,” I said as I reached for the doorknob.

“Bishop, no!”

I flung the door open, expecting to find a woman in the room, but what I saw was much, much worse. Not one, but two naked women were in Aaron's bed, their limbs entwined as they slept. What took things over the top was the fact that I recognized both women. Tiffany Johnson and Keisha Holland had both grown up in my church.

I turned away from them, flipped on the light switch, and pounded my fist on the wall, causing the women to stir.

“What?” Tiffany said groggily, squinting her eyes against the bright light. “We can't be doing this all night, Aaron. You got to let a sister get some sleep.”

“You ladies should be ashamed of yourselves!” I yelled.

“Oh my God! Bishop!” Keisha was the first one to realize I was in the room. She grabbed the covers and shoved Tiffany's legs off of her as she covered herself as best she could.

I glared at Aaron, who looked like he wanted to fall through the floor and disappear.

“Now, I just know that both of those young ladies were not raised to be up here in all this foolishness,” I said, so disappointed in all three of them.

“Bishop, we're sorry.” Tiffany started to cry.

“We are,” Keisha agreed, though she didn't look the least bit embarrassed.

“Get up and get your clothes on now!” I grabbed Aaron's arm and pulled him into the hallway with me.

“Bishop, look, you weren't supposed to see that.”

“That's the best you can do?” I said. “You don't even sound sorry, Aaron.”

“I'm not.”

My mouth dropped open; he'd actually left me speechless. I felt like I was talking to a stranger. The Aaron I knew would not disregard the church's teachings so blatantly.

“What do I have to be sorry about?” he continued. “I'm a grown man and they're both consenting adults.”

“What about Tia, Aaron? How do you think she'd feel if she knew you were doing this?”

He laughed. “Tia treated me worse than a dog. She dumped me like I meant absolutely nothing to her. Tell me, how am I supposed to feel after that?”

“I know she hurt you, but that young lady loves you,” I insisted.

“No disrespect, Bishop, but after what she did to me, she can eat rocks for all I care. You need to step off and let me just be.”

“I can't do that. Especially not when you're making such bad choices right now. You have to believe me when I tell you that Tia loves you. There is still a chance for the two of you.”

“Yeah, well, I don't believe you. Actions speak louder than words, and her leaving me at the altar let me know loud and clear how she really feels.”

“You're wrong. Not only does she love you, but she's going to need you to be there for her,” I said, coming dangerously close to breaking my promise to Monique.

“Be there for her!” he yelled indignantly “Tia don't give a shit about me, Bishop. Why should I care about her?”

We were interrupted by Keisha and Tiffany, who stepped out of the room to do their walk of shame.

“Bishop, please don't—” Keisha's face was pleading.

“Don't what? Say anything to your parents? Don't tell your friends? Don't mention this to any other church members?” I scolded. “It would serve you right if I did. But you two are grown, and
you
have to decide if how you're living is the way that God intended for you.”

They stared at me with wide eyes, accepting my lecture as penance for their transgressions.

“This is not right, and you both know it,” I said, shaking my head in disappointment.

“But we're sorry. We really are, we got caught up in the moment,” Tiffany insisted. She sounded like a teenager, much too young to be involved in the debauchery I'd just witnessed. “Please don't be mad,” she said, practically begging.

“Lord help you, child, if you think I'm the one you need to be worried about right now. You better get home and get down on your knees and pray for forgiveness from the one who really matters.”

“Yes, Bishop,” they replied together then headed past us, heads hung low.

“And I want to see both of you in my office after services next Sunday. We'll be setting up some volunteer hours for you so you can spend your time in service to the Lord, not frolicking on the devil's playground with the choir director,” I called out to them just before they shut the front door.

“This isn't their fault. I invited them over here,” Aaron admitted.

“I haven't begun to assess blame yet. But you think I don't know those girls' reputations?”

I turned back to Aaron, whose soul needed saving too. Apparently he wasn't ready to hear the message yet, though.

“Bishop, you have to leave too,” he said.

“I'm not leaving you like this.”

He scowled at me. “Look, I can take care of myself,” he said. “Why don't you go help those two say their prayers or something?”

“I'll deal with those two in my own time, but right now I need to be here with you.” I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You're in trouble, man. I'm worried about you.”

He shook my hand off. “I just need you to go!” he yelled.

“I'm not leaving you like this,” I said, standing my ground. “Get some clothes on. We're going to have a talk.”

Aaron's shoulders slumped, and I knew that he had finally accepted defeat. “I'll put on a pot of coffee,” I told him as I headed toward the kitchen. He went into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

As I waited for Aaron, I thought about what I was preparing to do. I had promised Monique that I wouldn't betray Tia's confidence, and I didn't normally break my promises. This situation was anything but normal, though. Aaron was in a desperate downward spiral, and there was only one way I knew to snap him out of it.

He started to speak as he entered the room. “Bishop, you don't under—”

“Tia saw one of her rapists. At her bachelorette party,” I blurted out.

“What?” Aaron reacted as if he'd been punched in the gut.

“That's why she didn't show up at the wedding. She said she was too ashamed to face you.”

“Why?” he said, collapsing onto the couch. “I don't understand. Why didn't she just tell me?” He dropped his head into his hands and I gave him a few minutes to process the horrendous news.

When he finally lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes were searching mine for an answer on how to proceed. “Son, you need to get up and get yourself together,” I said. “Then you need to go out there and find your woman. You understand?”

“Yes,” he said, and I could see the old Aaron returning. He stood up and started cleaning up the remnants of his party. He was ready to take action. “Thank you, Bishop. I'm going to make things right.”

I patted him on the back. “That's just what I wanted to hear,” I said as I headed for the front door.

“Just one more thing,” I said before I exited.

“Anything.”

“If First Lady ever finds out that I told you, it will cost me my marriage.”

“That won't happen,” Aaron assured me. I left knowing that I had done the right thing.