The First Lady (19 page)

I returned exactly one hour later. As always, the eleven o’clock service was standing-room only, because this was the only sermon of the day that the bishop preached himself. Ignoring the usher who tried to hand me a program, I swung my hips and strutted my stuff right down the center aisle. I was looking good, and all eyes were on me, including the bishop’s. I was showing off my legs in stilettos and wearing a tight, short, off-white skirtsuit that showed everything the men desired and the women wished they had.

I was sure everyone in the church was wondering what the hell I was doing when I paused in front of the pulpit and glared at the bishop as if I were about to accuse him of murder. I practically heard the collective sigh of relief when I stepped away, lifted the shoulder bag I’d used to reserve a seat, and sat in the pew. I glanced over at Lisa Mae, who was sitting three seats down from me. She looked down at my short skirt, and her high-yellow face screwed up into a frown. It did nothing for her looks, I thought with satisfaction.

I sat up a little straighter so my cleavage was displayed front and center, and then I settled in to hear the bishop’s sermon. Although my grand entrance hadn’t stopped him completely, it took him a while to get back into the rhythm of his sermon. I wondered if the other members of the congregation noticed his discomfort; but even if they didn’t, I know I was enjoying it. He seemed to be watching me from the corner of his eye. Oh, he probably thought people believed he was gazing at his beloved Lisa Mae, but I knew better. He was looking at me, and only me. I shifted and moved in my seat throughout the entire service, allowing my short skirt to ride up even higher, just to make him more uncomfortable.

When the service was over, I planned to wait a few seconds to let the crowd disperse a bit before I got out of my seat to confront the bishop. I pretended to fumble with the shoulder bag on the floor by my feet. When I lifted my head, I saw dark trousers. Someone was standing beside me. For a moment I thought maybe my conversation with the bishop would happen sooner than I’d expected, but then my eyes traveled up to see that it was his errand boy, Trustee Black. I sucked my teeth at him as he stood there looking all somber with his suit jacket buttoned up and both hands in his pants pockets. This was clearly not a friendly Sunday morning greeting.

“Sister Monique, can I speak to you for a second?”

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. “Not right now, Trustee. I have something much more important to speak with Bishop about.”

“But this is important,” he said, taking hold of my arm. To an observer, it would look like a casual gesture, but the way his fingers gripped my elbow, I knew he meant to send me a message.

I swung my head toward him. “If you don’t let go of me right now … ,” I hissed.

He released my arm and took a step back, still with a fake-ass smile on his face for anyone who might be watching. “Sister, I hope you’re not planning on starting any trouble in the church today. Especially not on the Lord’s day.”

“Trustee Black, I’m not here for any trouble. What I’m here for is answers. And the only one who can answer my questions is your friend, the bishop. Now, you’d best keep your hands to yourself.” I walked away from him, toward the back of the church, where the bishop was thanking members of the congregation for coming to the service.

I waited in line for almost twenty minutes, watching the bishop shake the hands of the men and kiss the women on their cheeks. I hated to admit it, but Bishop Wilson looked good. As angry as I was, the man still made my knees weak. A vision of our passionate night flashed through my mind, but I wasn’t about to let my desire for him stop me from demanding the answers I deserved.

When it was finally my turn to be greeted, I didn’t give the bishop a chance to say a word. I just pointed my finger in his face and said, “We need to talk.” I didn’t give a damn who heard me, and trust me, a lot of people heard.

From the way his eyes darted around to see who was witnessing this, it was obvious he was embarrassed. “That’s fine … uh … Sister Johnson. Uh … why don’t we … uh … Why don’t we meet in my office after I thank these kind folks for coming to the service?”

I smirked, knowing that the words he left unspoken were, “Please don’t make a scene in front of my church.” Good. Let him sweat.

“That’s fine, Bishop. I’ll be right over here.” I sashayed to a spot about five feet away and folded my arms. I didn’t take my eyes off him once while he greeted the remaining people in line. He had plastered the smile back on his face, but it was definitely much less bright than it was before.

When the line finally ended, the bishop gestured wordlessly for me to follow him. I did, noticing that Lisa Mae was just a few paces behind me. The bishop didn’t turn around, so he didn’t even realize she was with us until we were in front of his office. In the hallway, he turned to say something to me but stopped when he saw that we weren’t alone.

“Uh, Lisa, is it possible that Sister Monique and I can meet in my office in private?”

I would have expected some attitude from her, but instead, her face lost all emotion. “Why?” she practically whispered.

Ah-ha, I thought, looks like someone is still a little insecure about her relationship with the bishop. Well, Sister Lisa, you just better watch your back, because if there’s any weakness at all between you, I’ll be there to break y’all apart. Can I hear an amen?

The bishop cleared his throat and spoke patiently to Lisa Mae. “Because what Sister Monique and I have to talk about is personal, and it’s best kept between the two of us.”

“You got that right,” I said, placing my hands on my hips and twisting my lips. If she wasn’t going to show any backbone about the whole situation, I’d show enough for both of us.

She must have taken my attitude as a direct challenge, because the real Lisa Mae suddenly stepped back into that emotionless person who had stood before me a minute ago. Her eyes became small with anger, and I could see the muscles in her jaw tightening. I’m sure if Bishop wasn’t there, we would’ve had a physical confrontation. But he was there, and when he placed a hand on her shoulder, it jolted her out of warrior mode and back into that fake-ass submissive role she was playing for him.

“Okay, T.K.,” she said sweetly. “Whatever this is, please make it fast. We’re supposed to have brunch with Reverends Thompson and Simmons at one o’clock, and we wouldn’t want to be late.” She looked at me to be sure I got the message. Yeah, I got it. She was the bishop’s woman, and she was being included in his brunch plans with some very important members of the church. I rolled my eyes to tell her I really didn’t give a damn. I was still going to meet with her man privately in his office, and I knew that every second I was in there with him would be eating her alive.

The bishop said, “I understand. We’re going to make this as quick as possible. Aren’t we, Sister Monique?”

“If you say so, Bishop,” I told him. “But you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

I glanced at Lisa Mae, and the look on her face said my last statement had struck a deep nerve. Bishop Wilson would definitely be doing some explaining today, to me
and
to her.

He turned away from both of us as he sensed the tension building. I know he didn’t want a catfight in the hallway. I smirked at Lisa Mae and followed him into his office. This time, Lisa didn’t follow, but I knew she stood there watching us, so I placed a hand on my hip and strutted even more than usual. Take that, bitch.

Once inside his office, the bishop shut the door behind us. “Have a seat, Sister Monique,” he said in his authority-figure voice. He had some nerve, this man who not long ago had shared my bed like we were newlyweds, talking to me now like I was just some anonymous church member.

“That’s all right. I’ll stand.” The bitterness was obvious in my voice, and I truly didn’t care. Was it possible to love someone and hate him at the same time?

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I sit.”

“This is your office.”

He sat on the edge of his desk. “That was quite an entrance you made today during the service.”

That brought a wicked smile to my face. “I thought it might get your attention. I’ve been calling you for the last three weeks. It seems you don’t want to answer my calls or return my messages.”

“Calls? Did you call me? I never got any messages.” He glanced at the phone on his desk.

I rolled my eyes. “You know, Bishop, you are not a very good liar.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it. “You don’t have to lie, Bishop. All I want is the truth.”

He reached for a bottle of water on his desk and took a long drink before he could finally look me in the eyes again. He said, “You’re right. I’m not a good liar. I guess that’s because I hate to lie. So, you want an explanation?”

I nodded. “That would be nice.”

He ignored my sarcasm and continued. “Okay, remember the day before you left for Mississippi?”

“You mean the night we made love?” Of course I remembered. I would never forget that night. It was like a dream come true. The way we made love was like music.

Oh, God, I should never have gotten on that stupid plane. He’d still be mine if I didn’t. I just know he would.

I pinched the back of my hand to stop myself from reminiscing about the last tender moment I’d shared with the bishop. I was determined to stay mad at him for his betrayal.

“Yes, I remember,” I said coldly. “I think that’s part of the problem, wouldn’t you say?”

He ignored my comment and plowed ahead. “Well, remember I kept telling you I had something to tell you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” My heart was in my stomach. When I had woken up that morning, I rushed out of there so fast that he never did tell me what it was he came to say. Could he have been preparing to tell me then about Lisa Mae? And if he was, then that just made matters worse. He should have told me before we made love, not after he allowed me to feel his passion. My feelings might have been hurt, but at least I wouldn’t have spent all that time in Mississippi fantasizing about the relationship we would start when I returned to New York. I crossed my arms and cocked my head to the side, waiting for him to say whatever it was he “forgot” to tell me the first time.

“Well, I was supposed to tell you about Lisa Mae and me.” He looked very uncomfortable, but that was fine with me. I was not about to say anything to ease his trials right now. “Uh … well …” When he did finally get himself together enough to speak, it came out as one long, fast sentence. “It’s a long story, but somehow I got trapped into dating her, and I didn’t want things to turn out this way, and I’m really sorry they did, Monique, and I wanted to tell you myself, but this whole thing just got out of hand.”

I interrupted his never-ending sentence. “You got trapped? Let me see if I got this right. You’re seeing Lisa Mae because of church politics? You listened to those people who think that I’m less worthy of you just because my clothes don’t meet their standards? Oh, my God. I thought you were a man. You let them choose your woman for you.” If I weren’t so offended, I might have laughed at how crazy that sounded. Some man of God he was, preaching about accepting all of God’s children, then rejecting me—not because I had an evil soul, but because my dresses showed a little cleavage. And God forbid, his precious church members ever found out just how much that cleavage tempted him. He was just pitiful.

He didn’t even try to defend his weakness. “I’m sorry, Monique. I wish things could have worked out differently.”

“You wish they could have worked out differently?” I asked. “And why is that? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? You got a piece of this.” I gestured to the region below my waist, “and you still get to keep your pristine image for the church.”

He tried to protest, but I wasn’t finished yet.

“I really thought you were a different type of man, Bishop. But as it turns out, you’re just like all the others. I should have never let you make a fool out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and suddenly I was no longer angry.

I found myself on the verge of tears, but I couldn’t quite identify their source. Was I crying because I had been taken advantage of, or was it just the realization that I wasn’t going to be with the bishop again? As much as I hated to admit it, the latter seemed to be what was upsetting me the most. I guess somewhere in the recesses of my heart, I had hoped that if we had this little private conversation, he would see his error and we could still be together. Yes, he had done me wrong, but deep in my heart I still knew he was a good man, and I still wanted him. Perhaps that’s why his simple apology was enough to completely change the path of my emotions.

“I thought you felt something for me.” My voice shook as I struggled to keep my tears at bay. “Are you saying there’s no chance for us now? I can be discreet.”

“I can’t live like that.” He lowered his head. “Besides, I promised Lisa I’d give this a try. No matter how we became a couple, she’s proven herself to be a good woman, and she deserves a chance. These circumstances are not her fault; they’re mine.”

“I just can’t believe you’re letting the congregation make your decisions for you,” I said sadly, then took a step closer to him. If my words couldn’t make him understand how much I cared, maybe my actions would. I leaned in and gently kissed his lips. When he didn’t resist, I slipped my tongue into his mouth, but before I could even enjoy the kiss, he pulled away, frowning.

“I can’t do this, Monique. I just can’t. It wouldn’t be right to you or Lisa. I made one mistake. I’m not about to make another.”

He stepped away from me to put some distance between our bodies. As the first few tears spilled out of my eyes and ran down my cheeks, I asked, “Well, can you do me one favor, Bishop?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“I need you to recommend another church for me.”

“Sister Monique, you don’t need another church.”

“Yes, Bishop, I think I do.”

As I watched Monique turn and walk out of my office, I sensed that it was more than an exit from a room. I felt as though she were walking out of my life. The man inside me wanted to run after her and stop her, to grab her and kiss her again, then carry her into my office so we could make love on my desk.