The First Lady (26 page)

“Have you ever asked your father to just have some faith in you?” I asked.

“Yes, but nothing alters the way he thinks.”

“And how do you feel about what he thinks?”

“Nothing pleases me more than praising the Lord. Secular music isn’t for me. My heart is with writing and singing gospel. My voice belongs to Him.”

“Then maybe you should try talking to your father about it again, and tell him the same thing you just told me. I’m convinced your heart is where it belongs.”

“No, Bishop. I just don’t see trying to have that conversation with him again.”

“Well, Sister, he can’t be kept in the dark forever. You’re his daughter. I know how I would feel if my children kept something so important from me. You need his love and support. At some point or another he’d have to come around.”

Savannah sat back in her chair. “I can’t do it. Maybe you should try telling him I need him,” she said. “As a matter of fact, Bishop, that might not be a bad idea.”

“Oh, no, Savannah,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “That’s not my battle.”

She paused for a moment. “Bishop, I don’t know if the battle is mine, either. It’s the Lord’s. I sing for Him, so maybe I ought to just let Him tell my father.”

“Oh, Sister Savannah.” I laughed. “I don’t think that’s quite the interpretation the Lord had in mind.”

She had to laugh herself. “I know, Bishop, and I’m going to tell my father, I promise,” she said as she stood up. “But not tonight. I’ve got a song in my head that I need to get home to put on paper.”

“Well,” I said, standing, “in our next session, I can’t wait to hear about your father’s response to finding out about your future successful singing career,” I hinted.

“Oh, Bishop,” she said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. I looked down in time to watch her other hand stroke the back of my hand.

When I looked up at her, our eyes locked. In order to brush over the somewhat awkward moment, I said, “But in the meantime, if there’s anything else I can help you with—”

“As a matter of fact, Bishop,” she said quickly, cutting me off. She looked down at her hands caressing mine, then dropped them to her sides. “There is something you can help me with. Well, not actually me, but a friend of mine.”

“A friend,” I said with a raised eyebrow and peculiar look on my face.

“Yes, Bishop,” she said, taking a seat again. “You see, there’s this friend of mine and she sort of has a crush on this man.” She looked embarrassed, then stopped herself. “Maybe I shouldn’t call it a crush. I mean, she’s much too old for a crush.” Savannah blushed. “But my friend really likes this man, and she
thinks
that he likes her too.”

“Thinks? So you’re, uh, I mean your
friend,
hasn’t told this person how she feels about him?”

“No, because she doesn’t want to embarrass herself.” She looked down. “She’s never approached a man about such feelings before, and the fact that he’s someone she admires makes things more difficult for her. She really looks up to him.”

“I guess I can understand her being reluctant. No one likes embarrassment. But maybe there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Are you sure he’s never expressed stronger feelings for her?”

She continued to look down as she shook her head. “No, their relationship started off with him being someone she could get advice from. But now she thinks she’s fallen in love with this man. She’s pretty sure he likes her, but I believe she’ll do anything to have him love her as much as she loves him.”

Talk about the covers being pulled off someone. But here it felt like Savannah was pulling the covers off herself and that she was sitting before me butt naked in that chair. I mean, it was more than obvious who this so-called friend was and who the man she admired was. I believe Savannah even sensed I knew what she was trying to say. She clearly was looking for a positive reaction from me, but she’d caught me by surprise. I tried to think of a quick response, but I was stumped.

“Well, uh,” I finally said, loosening my tie. I tried not to look uncomfortable with the conversation, but I know I failed. The only thing that helped me was, Savannah didn’t have the courage to look me in the eye for an extended period of time. “Is this man that your friend is in love with … is he a man of God—assuming that your friend is a woman of God.”

“Oh, he’s definitely a man of God, one of the Lord’s servants indeed. He doesn’t know it, but she’s extremely attracted to this side of him too. She loves everything he represents and all that he’s about.”

Lord have mercy.
I was at a loss for words, but fortunately I was able to scrape a few up. “Well, I think you should pray on it… for your friend, that is. Pray for your friend. God knows all of our hearts, and I’m sure He has someone in store for her. You know He always delivers on time.”

“But, Bishop, isn’t it kind of unfair for her to hide her feelings from this man? Shouldn’t she at least try to talk to him? Who knows? Maybe God wants them to be together. They won’t know until an effort has been made. This man is very caring. If she stresses how she feels, he might be willing to give them a try. ”

For some reason, my tie didn’t feel loose enough at that moment. I pulled on it some more, clearing my throat and mentally pleading for God’s help. “You’re right, Sister Savannah. Who knows? But hold off on talking to your friend about her developing more than a platonic relationship with this man. If it’s meant to be, God will lead their hearts together. In the meantime, I still think you should just pray for your friend. That’s the best thing you can do for her right now.”

“You’re right, Bishop,” she said, standing again and throwing her arms up like she felt silly. “Prayer is always the answer.” Looking into Savannah’s face, I could see she was embarrassed. She began to hurry toward the door. “Well, I better go. And thank you for everything, Bishop.”

“Uh, you’re quite welcome,” I said, standing to see her out, still a little stumped by the subject of our last conversation. “See you later.”

“Yes, Bishop. And tell Marlene I asked about her,” she said as she exited my office.

“Whew,” I said as I walked back over to my desk and sat down in my chair. “Oh, boy, I sure wasn’t expecting that one.”

After stopping by a liquor store, Loretta and I sat parked down the street from the bishop’s house, opposite the direction in which T.K. would have to travel to reach the church for the deacons’ board meeting. We were waiting so long that I was starting to think he was skipping the meeting to be with his crackhead baby momma like he’d done so many other times during the past few weeks. I was getting tired of her real quick, and it was taking all my self-control not to just jump out of my car and bang on his door and demand that he kick her out. Fortunately, Loretta was there to cool me down enough that I could wait with my anger on a low simmer rather than a full boil.

“Lisa, I know you’re mad, but remember who you are. You do not want your man witnessing you showing your ass. He needs to believe you support what he’s doing for that crackhead. Then when he catches her using drugs again, she’s the one showing her ass, and you can be the concerned girlfriend there to soothe his disappointment. So keep your ass in this car. He’ll be coming out any minute now.”

Loretta was right too. At the last minute, his garage door opened and he pulled out into the street. We watched him drive in the direction of the church; then both of us knew it was time to put Operation Crackhead into motion. I was determined to show my beloved T.K. Marlene’s true colors.

“You ready?” Loretta started the engine and put the car in drive.

“Ready to take my man back from that crackhead? Loretta, I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life,” I told her as she drove slowly up to his house.

We glanced at each other quickly, then got out of the car and headed up the walkway. Marlene answered the door a few seconds after we knocked. She looked much better than the last time I saw her. No more rat’s nest on top of her head; her hair looked smooth and shiny. Her face had filled out, as had her hips, and she wore clean, well-fitting clothes. None of this made me very happy. She’d risen so far in such a short time; maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to get her back on crack.

Marlene greeted us cheerfully. “Well, hello, Sister Lisa Mae, Sister Loretta. I’m sorry, but Thomas Kelly isn’t in right now.” Lord, I hated it when she called him that. Why couldn’t she recognize that he wasn’t the same man she knew when they were kids in Virginia? He was Bishop T.K. Wilson, for goodness sake!

I smiled at her while I imagined putting my hands around her neck, but when I spoke, I was sure not to give away my true feelings. “That’s okay, Marlene. We’re not here to see T.K.,” I said sweetly. “We’re here to see you.” I extended my hands and held out a medium-sized box with a pink bow on top. Marlene looked down at the box but didn’t reach for it. I saw the hesitation in her eyes. This definitely wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.

“Go ahead, Marlene,” Loretta urged her. “It’s a gift from Lisa Mae and me. Nothing special, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

Marlene stared at the box as she took it from my hands. I really couldn’t blame her for being a little suspicious about me bringing her a gift. After all, the last time I stopped by, I’m sure she could tell that I was not happy. Not only did T.K. have Marlene living with him, but he also had Savannah Dickens supposedly helping him with her recovery. T.K. seemed oblivious to my feelings, but women sense these things about other women, so I know that Savannah and Marlene knew how I really felt.

“Well, thank you, but I—”

“No need to thank us, Marlene,” I interrupted. I was not about to let her refuse now that I’d set my plan in motion. “Besides, you’re family … church family, so we just want you to know that you have our support.”

“Go ahead and open it,” Loretta insisted.

Marlene lifted the lid off the box and pulled out the package inside. The muscles in her jaw relaxed a bit. I guess she’d been expecting to find a poisonous snake or something. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be a bad way to see her go …

“This is nice, ladies. Thank you.” Marlene interrupted my morbid fantasy.

“T.K. told me how much you like tea,” I said.

“Yeah, I really do. Will you ladies join me for some?” And just like that, we were in. I would have to thank Loretta later for the great idea of bearing gifts when we came to set our trap.

Marlene led us into the kitchen. I liked the wench better when she didn’t have any manners. I couldn’t stand the idea that she was escorting us through T.K.'s house like she owned it. God, I couldn’t wait to get rid of her junkie behind.

“The bishop has such a lovely house,” Loretta said as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “And it was so nice of him to open it up to you during a bad time.”

“Yes, it was.” Marlene stared off into space for a minute as if she were daydreaming about my man, whose heart was too big for his own good. T.K. had a heart so big that he couldn’t see this crack whore for what she really was. But all that was about to change.

“I appreciate the two of you taking your time to bring me all these different teas,” Marlene said as she pulled out the pot. “I mean, I drink regular ol’ Lipton mostly, but when I got a few extra dollars, I like to splurge a little.”

Thank God her back was turned to Loretta and me so that she couldn’t see us laughing our asses off at her. The woman had no class. I was starting to wonder why I ever saw her as a threat in the first place, but then I reminded myself that she was T.K.'s first love. Whether or not she had class, a man’s first love always holds a special place in his heart.

Loretta nodded to let me know it was time for my show. “Um, Marlene, dear,” I said politely, “why don’t you sit down at the table and let me take over? Loretta has a brother who has struggled with a crack addiction for years, and she’d like to talk with you, if you don’t mind. Maybe you could offer some insight for her and her family, since you seem to be doing so well now.”

Marlene set the pot on the stove, then walked over to the table. “Well, I don’t know how much help I could be, but okay. At least I can start off by listening.” She took a seat while I took over preparing the tea.

Loretta began to go into a fictitious spiel about how her brother had been smoking crack cocaine on and off again and how she just didn’t know what she could do to help him. When the water came to a boil, I took the pot off the stove. Marlene was so engrossed in Loretta’s tale that she didn’t even seem to notice the kettle whistling. That was good. Then she wouldn’t be watching me as I lifted up my long, loose shirt, removed a tiny bottle of brandy from each front pants pocket, and poured them into an oversized coffee mug. The smell was strong, so I had to think of something quick.

“Excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was wondering, Marlene,” I rambled. “Do you mind if I mix the cherry flavor with the chamomile? There’s only one sample of each flavor, but the packets are only strong enough for two servings. Two packets should be enough for all three of us.”

“Cherry and chamomile?” Marlene asked, wrinkling her nose at the sound of the awful combination.

“Oh, it will be fine,” I said. “I’ve done it many times before.”

“Well, since you know what you’re doing, go ahead.”

Loretta continued chattering to distract Marlene as I finished the tea. “Here you ladies go,” I said, setting three cups on the table in front of them. “Marlene, you go ahead and take the larger mug.”

“Oh, no, that would be rude of me. One of you ladies take it, please,” Marlene said. Oh, so not only was she clean, but the heifer also had some manners now, too, huh? Ooh, I couldn’t wait to get her out of here.

“Don’t be silly, Marlene. The tea was supposed to be for you to enjoy, so you should have the larger cup.”

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” she said as she lifted the large mug and took a sip. I held my breath, waiting for her response. If she tasted the brandy, our plan would fail, and I might be in big trouble with T.K. She swallowed, then frowned slightly, but at least she didn’t spit it out.