The First Lady (17 page)

As Loretta and I were putting the finishing touches on the refreshment table, Sister Savannah, followed by her power-hungry father, Deacon Joe Dickens, called themselves bringing some tired old peach cobbler to the table. Now, I knew Savannah heard me the week before when I told the sisters that I would supply all the food for this meeting. Besides, there was barely any room on the table for the cobbler by the time Loretta and I finished laying out my spread. Why those two couldn’t get the hint was beyond me. Everyone in the church knew the bishop and I were an item, but Savannah always seemed to be in the bishop’s face, and so was her father; although I don’t know why, because there was no way the bishop could ever be interested in someone like Savannah.

If you ask me, something was not right about that woman. She was in her mid-thirties, and her daddy followed behind her like she was thirteen. And he must have thought his daughter was dipped in platinum or something, because he sure as heck thought Savannah was going to catch the bishop’s eye sooner or later. I had it on good authority that her father had said, “Until I see a ring on Sister Lisa Mae’s finger, the bishop’s still a single man.” Well, he and his daughter were in for a surprise because after today, I don’t care how much peach cobbler, or pork chops, for that matter, they brought to the table. This meeting was like my coming-out party, and it would be only a matter of time before the bishop slipped a ring on my finger.

“You can set it in the back over there,” Loretta told Savannah when she brought the cobbler over to the table, playing that coy role she always did. “If we end up needing it, I’ll set it out. If not, no need in it going to waste. You can take it back home. I’m sure you and the deacon will enjoy it.”

Savannah stood silent and still, frowning at Loretta, while holding the pan of cobbler in front of her. Her eyes finally traveled past Loretta, then landed on the table as if still looking for a spot to rest her pan. Loretta shifted her weight to one side, then propped her hand on her hip, preparing to tell Savannah where else she could take her cobbler. Still determined to make this night drama-free, I stepped over to intervene.

“Savannah, honey, how about giving the cobbler to me?” I asked, reaching for the pan. “I’ll take it to the back for you.”

Nobody asked Deacon Dickens for his two cents, but of course he spoke it anyway. “Why don’t we just put it here?” the deacon suggested, making it sound more like a demand. He moved two of the sweet potato pies I’d brought to the back, where no one could see them. “Ain’t no need in having four sweet potato pies sitting on the table at one time anyway. I’ll just get these two out of the way; then Savannah can put her cobbler right here. You ladies got an issue with that?” He turned to face Loretta and me, obviously displeased with us for trying to block Savannah’s dowry.

“You think this spot will do?” He frowned as he pointed to the empty space he’d made on the table.

Loretta looked at me and twisted her lips. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it before she could say something. “Sure, Deacon,” I said in the most pleasant voice I could find. “I think that’ll work.”

“Good. We wouldn’t want the bishop to miss out on his favorite treat, now, would we? He’s very fond of Savannah’s cobbler, you know.” He looked me dead in the face when he said that.

Loretta nodded, then gave Savannah a fake smile, which she kept plastered on her face until the deacon and his daughter walked away. When they had both taken a seat, Loretta picked up the cobbler and placed it under the table.

From here on out, the only treats the bishop is going to be sinking his teeth into are mine, I thought.

“All right, men and women of God, I’d like to get this meeting started.” The bishop stood. He was looking tired and had lost some weight in the past two weeks because of a fast he was coming off of today. That was why Loretta and I went so crazy with the refreshments. I wanted to make sure my man had some good food after his long fast. “As always, I’d like to open this evening’s meeting with prayer.”

Everyone bowed their heads as the bishop blessed the meeting. Then the different committees gave their reports, and finally, the question-and-answer session began. Right off the bat, the congregation started hitting Bishop with all types of queries. When would the summer revivals start? With all the money our church raises, why did we only give out ten scholarships and not fifteen? And were we going to have an Easter egg hunt for the kids? The demands seemed endless, but he was holding his own until about fifty of the women got started on him about the women’s month being canceled.

Women’s month was the one month out of the year when the women of the church ran everything, from church services to Bingo. It had always been the first lady’s baby, but since she’d passed, it was put on the back burner. No one had stepped up to take Charlene’s place as the chairperson of the committee that planned the events for women’s month, so the committee had pretty much disbanded, and the month was canceled. Interestingly, none of these women who were questioning the bishop now would have even cared about the cancellation if Loretta hadn’t brought it to their attention a couple of days ago at women’s Bible study. She also suggested that they come to the meeting to get it reinstated.

“Why’d you cancel our month? It’s bad enough this church is run mostly by men. You didn’t cancel the men’s—”

“Well, uh, as far as women’s month …,” the bishop stammered. I don’t think he had even realized it was canceled. The poor man was obviously having a hard time keeping everything together since his right-hand
woman
was gone. But I was just the woman he needed to pull things back together, and I was about to prove this to everyone present.

I let them cut him to shreds for about two minutes before I decided to jump in. After all, he was my future husband—and coming to his rescue was well planned in advance by me and Loretta.

“Excuse me, Bishop,” I said, stepping from behind the refreshment table, “but I think the ladies are misinformed. I have the notes on everything we discussed as far as the women’s month is concerned.”

Ooooh, if I could have bottled up that precious look on the bishop’s face when he shot me a glance. He looked momentarily perplexed, but then his features flooded with an expression of pure relief. He knew I had his back. I would’ve winked at him, but at this point, all eyes were on me.

I caught a glimpse of Savannah when she snapped her neck around to check me out. Both her father’s and her facial expressions were priceless, a mixture of confusion and envy. Though I didn’t have a ring on my finger, the deacon was about to find out that what I had with the bishop was a lot more than he’d ever expected. We needed no symbolic ring to show our dedication to each other.

“Do you mind if I address the congregation?” I asked the bishop, “or would you like to do the honors?” I stuck out my hand to present to him the yellow folder I had brought for this little “demonstration.”

“By all means, Sister Lisa Mae,” he said with a nod, then moved to the side.

I looked out among the faces in the crowd and saw that I had the members’ undivided attention. Perhaps some of them were hoping for some drama to jump off, but I was prepared to handle this little misunderstanding about women’s month with such grace and tact that no one in that room would be left with any doubt about who should be the next first lady. My eyes caught Loretta’s briefly; just long enough for her to give me a little wink.

I stood in front of everyone and began to read from my notes. “The women will be handling the morning services on the following Sundays,” I started, then proceeded to run down the dates. “We have speakers for each Saturday, with the exception of the seventh, so if any members can suggest someone who might be able to share a word from God with us on that day, please see either myself or the bishop.”

I looked over at the bishop, who gave me an encouraging smile and a nod. In all actuality, I could have very easily booked a speaker for each Saturday, but I knew that if I didn’t leave an opportunity for church member participation, they’d swear up and down that I was trying to take over the entire women’s month.

“This year, the bishop and I decided that with all the gifts and talents the women of First Jamaica Ministries have, you should take a greater role in women’s month.”

The women’s eyes just lit up as I began to ask for volunteers to assign them to different functions and duties. I ended up with a volunteer co-chairperson, a welcoming committee, a hospitality committee, and several women members to do the scripture readings, announcements, offerings, and altar call.

Before it was all over, the first women’s month since the death of the former first lady was under way, and who better else to organize it than the next first lady? The bishop closed the meeting with prayer and grace; then everyone split up to go in separate directions. Some members went straight to the refreshment table, and others stood around chattering. All the ladies seemed pleased with the outcome. Several of them came over to shake my hand and tell me what a fabulous job the bishop and I had done with the plans.

I looked over at the bishop, and he was shaking hands and thanking the members for coming out to share with us at the meeting. Just when I saw Savannah about to step up to him, I excused myself from a conversation with Sister Alison in order to break up Savannah’s little happy moment. She couldn’t have said more than three or four words to Bishop by the time I walked up, interrupting her in midsentence.

“Well, Bishop, the member’s meeting went pretty well this go- round, don’t you think?” I asked, cupping my arm under his. I totally dismissed Savannah’s presence.

He smiled, then hugged me with his free arm. I seized the opportunity to snuggle my head on his chest. “The best meeting in a long time, Sister Lisa. Simply the best.” Although it was a brief hug, his timing couldn’t have been more perfect—just the thing I needed Savannah to see.

She seemed pretty choked up. “Well … um, Bishop … um … I won’t hold you up. I just came over to make you aware of the cobbler I made.”

“Really? You made cobbler? Did you bring some here tonight?” The bishop sounded excited.

Savannah’s face lit up as Bishop inquired about her dessert. “I sure did. If it hasn’t somehow jumped off the table and walked under it again, there should still be nearly a full pan over there,” she responded, glancing at me. The bishop looked lost. I just kept smiling. “Would you like for me to fix you some?” she offered.

“No!” I abruptly interrupted. The bishop looked at me with surprise, and I wanted to kick myself for losing control for that brief moment. After my triumph at the meeting, I didn’t want to ruin it now by embarrassing myself over some tasteless dessert this nobody had brought. I tried to clean it up as much as possible. “I mean, um … not right now, Savannah. I need to speak to the bishop for a minute. I’m sure once we finish talking, he’ll fix his own, and if not, I’ll be happy to take care of it for him.”

Savannah looked as if she didn’t know how to accept my reply and leave us alone. Either she was trying my patience, or she was simply clueless. I didn’t want things to get ugly, especially not in front of the bishop, so I attempted to beg her pardon. But before I had a chance to, the bishop came to my rescue.

“Sister Savannah, you know I always appreciate your baking skills. As soon as I finish having a word with Sister Lisa, I’ll be sure to reward my belly with a helping of your fine cobbler.”

Savannah nodded at the bishop, then rolled her eyes at me before walking away. Bishop grabbed my hand, then pulled me out into the hall. I was expecting him to ask me why I had planned the women’s month without him, so I was prepared to make him understand my intentions were all in his favor. I had rehearsed this moment in my head, so I was ready to lay on the charm pretty thick.

Once we were in the hall, I took Bishop’s other hand.

“Bishop, I—”

He stopped me before I could complete my sentence. His lips were pressed against mine before I could tell what was happening. “Lisa, I can’t thank you enough,” he said immediately upon unlocking our lips. I was stunned. “I don’t know what made you do it or even when you had the time to do it, but you really stepped up to the plate this time. I actually felt like I had a partner out there.”

“Thank you, T.K. I figured you could use a hand. Besides, isn’t that what the pastor’s woman is supposed to do?” I purposely left out the words
first lady,
but I’m sure he knew what I meant. “I saw you needed help, so I used my experience and contacts to pull things off. I’ve worked with a few of the speakers before, and they were more than willing to be participants.”

Bishop just kept shaking his head and smiling. “When I tell you God moves in mysterious ways, I really do mean it.”

“I believe that, Bishop. But tell me why you’re saying that now.”

“You know I had been fasting lately, right?”

“Yes, I know, Bishop.”

“Well, my fasting ended this evening. And, well, I can’t share with you why I was fasting and praying …” He grabbed my hands and pulled me close. “But what I will say is that it appears God has given me an answer.” He embraced me, squeezing me tightly. “Thank you again, Lisa. Thank you for everything.”

I squeezed him back, smiling inside and out as he kissed me again. “You’re welcome, Bishop. You’re quite welcome,” I said, and returned his kiss.

For days I’d been trying to get in touch with the bishop to let him know I was back in town after three and a half weeks with my mother. I had missed him quite a bit and couldn’t wait to see him, but I was having no luck so far. The only number I had was his cell, which he never seemed to answer, even before I’d left town. And after everything that had happened before my trip, I didn’t want to take any chances by calling the church and leaving my name. When he introduced me to the congregation as his woman, I wanted it to be timed correctly, not forced on him because the rumor mill started churning after some nosy person started checking his personal phone messages. We’d have time for my formal introduction to the church later. So, since there didn’t seem to be any other way to reach him, I decided to go to my favorite Saturday night church activity, Bingo, in hopes that we might “bump” into each other. He’d know what to do when he saw me. After what I put on him, he was going to be breaking down my door to get some more. Besides, I loved some Bingo, and I was good at it—usually.