The First Lady (33 page)

“Wait and I’ll—”

“Like I said, T.K., I’m tired of waiting. And since you were so quick to jump to Monique’s defense earlier, then maybe you should be with Monique.” Before I knew it, I had slammed the door shut and began my journey up the walkway.

The walk seemed so long as I thought about my last words to T.K. I couldn’t believe I had just said that to him. I said words that might practically drive him straight into Monique’s arms, or even worse, her bed.
God, I hope that comment doesn’t backfire on me. Maybe I should take it back.
As I turned around to head back to T.K.'s car, not wanting to end things on that note, he was looking over his shoulder, backing out of the driveway. The ten minutes were up, but yet my time was up, so I turned back around and headed up the walkway. When I opened the screen door, an envelope fell to my feet. I bent over to pick it up and realized that my good friend Charlene had sent me another note. Receiving another letter sure felt strange. I always thought once a person was deceased, physical communication would end too. I noticed my name was written on it with the same handwriting as before.

“But how could this be?” I said to myself. I even looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Charlene standing there.
You’re pissed off but not crazy,
I had to tell myself as I opened the envelope and began reading the letter:

I looked over my shoulder again as I tucked the letter into my purse. I fumbled with my keys until my shaking hands were finally able to unlock the door. I opened it up and then quickly closed it behind me as if a ghost were chasing me. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that one was. The timing of this letter was scary, but it explained what I was once again too blind to see: this outside element did exist and it had a name—Monique.

It was plain and clear what Charlene was suggesting that I do. But how could my trying to get T.K. into bed make me a better candidate for the first lady? If anything, T.K. might start looking at me as if I were the kind of woman like Monique. But, as I gave the situation more thought, I realized if I showed Bishop I could satisfy him in bed as well as possess the leadership qualities that it takes to be a first lady, then he’d see I had more of an advantage over Monique. Direction was just something Monique would never have. The one and only thing that she had going for her, fortunately for me, I had too.

The clicking sound of the lock on the front door snapped me out of my thoughts. Just then, Loretta came through the door carrying a doggie bag.

“Hey, Lisa,” Loretta said as she walked over, set the bag on the coffee table, and sighed as she flopped down on the couch. “I’m so stuffed, I feel like I’m going to explode.” She began rubbing her stomach. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone for that dessert, but you know I can’t resist chocolate cake.”

I heard Loretta’s words, but my thoughts were still on my dilemma of getting T.K. into bed, and I couldn’t allow my mind to focus on anything else. “Loretta?” I asked.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“Would you agree that all men, even men of the cloth, have needs?”

“Do they all have dicks?” Loretta said bluntly. “Then there’s your answer. Why do you ask?”

“Uh … well… uhh,” I stammered.

After a few seconds of staring at me, waiting to see if I were going to get the words out, Loretta’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. It was evident that she had figured out on her own why I was asking.

“Lisa Mae, you hoe you,” she said as she sat upright, putting her hands on her hips. “So you finally figured out where the real power lies?”

“Oh, Loretta, please,” I said, blushing and shooing my hand at her and rolling my eyes. “It’s nothing like that at all.”

“Who are you kidding? Besides, even if it wasn’t T.K.'s needs you were worrying about, I wouldn’t blame you if you only had your own in mind.”

“Now that’s enough already,” I said, standing up, flushed with embarrassment from Loretta’s foul talk.

“Oh, please, you might as well take out stock in Duracell batteries. You think I don’t hear all that moaning and groaning coming from your bedroom at night?”

My first instinct was to curse Loretta for eavesdropping during my intimate moments, but that wouldn’t have changed the fact that she knew about my acts of touching myself. I’d just have to make a mental note to be less vocal. “So you hear me in there, huh?” I asked her after swallowing my clumpy pride.

“No need to be embarrassed. We’re Christians, but we ain’t dead,” Loretta stated. “You think you feel bad? How do you think I felt when I found out that Denzel was cheating on me with you?” Loretta laughed. “And from the sound of it, he makes you feel a hell of a lot better than he ever made me feel.”

“Loretta.” I laughed along with her, picking up one of the decorative pillows from the couch and throwing it at her. “But seriously, how do you think T.K. would react to me … well … you know … pushing up on him?”

“Oh, my dear friend, Lisa Mae,” Loretta said as she rose from the couch. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? He’ll do what any other man would do. He’ll pull that condom out that he carries around in his wallet for such an occasion and take you up on your offer, girl.”

“T.K. doesn’t carry a condom around in his wallet,” I rebutted.

“His wife might be dead, but he ain’t,” Loretta said. And before she disappeared into her bedroom, she stated, “And neither is that thing in his pants.”

First Charlene and now my best friend agreed that if I wanted to stay ahead of the race, I had to fulfill T.K.'s every possible need. On that thought, I picked up the phone, hoping I could still catch T.K. in his office at the church before he made plans. I could only hope he’d accept my attempt to make up with him by inviting him to dinner the next night. And everybody knows that makeup sex comes along with making up. When T.K. picked up his office phone after the third ring, I was relieved. When he agreed to allow me to cook dinner for him the next night, I was ecstatic.

Loretta helped me whip up some baked chicken, green cabbage, and cornbread, and rice pudding for dessert. She then conveniently just happened to be heading out when the bishop arrived.

“Smells delicious,” the bishop said as he stood in the living room. I was so nervous that I had forgotten to offer him a seat, so we both just stood there in the middle of the living room, looking and smiling at each other. Finally, T.K. broke the silence. “Look, Lisa, about yesterday—” he started.

“Shhh,” I said, cutting him off. I instinctively placed my index finger on his lips. Oh, his soft thick lips felt like cotton under my fingertip. Before I knew it, I gently ran my finger across his lips.

T.K. closed his eyes, taking in my touch. I think I even heard a slight moan, and without thinking, I replaced my finger with my tongue as I smothered him with a passionate kiss. “Oh, Lisa,” he softly spoke, almost in lustfully. I could tell by his tone he was ready for his need to be fulfilled. “I’m sorry for—”

“T.K., I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to know that I want to give myself to you; all of me.”

Just then a blank look covered T.K.'s face. “Lisa Mae? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I thought I saw excitement in his eyes. If I had to guess, I would’ve said he was getting wet in his pants.

“Yes, T.K., you heard me right,” I said, not allowing yet another moment to pass before giving him what I knew I should, something I should’ve known to give him without his former wife having to tell me from the grave. “I know you came for dinner, but we can skip right to dessert.”

Boldly I took T.K. by the hands in order to lead him to my bedroom. But he didn’t budge. It was as if he wore cement boots. “Lisa Mae,” T.K. said. “We can’t do this.”

I studied his face and then realized why he was saying what he was saying. “Oh, T.K., you’re right. Wait right here,” I said as I dashed off to my bedroom to retrieve a condom from my dresser drawer. I had gone out and picked up a box of condoms from the drugstore, just in case Loretta was wrong about T.K. carrying one in his wallet. I returned pretty quickly.

“Listen, Lisa Mae. I can’t do this,” he said with concern.

“Now you can,” I said with a mischievous grin while waving the condom.

“No, Lisa, I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong idea, but I don’t want to go to bed with you.” He might as well have taken a huge red rubber stamp that read,
reject
and stamped my forehead with it. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. “You’re a beautiful woman of God, and I know you have needs, but I can’t be an accomplice to you sinning against God through fornication.”

I felt so embarrassed. “What? Me have needs? What about your needs? How do you handle those?”

Bishop grabbed my hands, then said confidently, “I open my Bible to read; then I pray.”

I couldn’t wait for Loretta to get home so I could slap the shit out of her, and if Charlene wasn’t already dead, I’d put her six feet under too. Because of them, I had it all wrong and now I had ruined any and all chances of becoming the first lady. There was only one thing to do now, and that was to let T.K. off the hook by ending our dinner date.

“I understand your wanting to leave now,” I said, praying to God that He’d allow me to hold back my tears long enough for me to close the door behind T.K. and retreat to my bedroom and cry my eyes swollen.

“Lisa Mae, I came here to have dinner with you, and that’s just what I’m going to do. Why in the world would I want to leave?”

“I don’t know, T.K… . maybe because now that I’ve made a fool of myself, you might find me a little less desirable.”

“Lisa, you’re a good woman.” He squeezed my hands as he spoke. “And I’m going to make sure that you stay a good woman,” T.K. said. I guess this was his meager attempt to make me feel better, and it worked somewhat. It worked enough that we were able to sit down to have dinner.

Not much talking went on over dinner. I still couldn’t believe T.K. had declined my offer to lay me down. He seemed to be enjoying supper with nothing on his mind at all. Since he came here only to eat, I was expecting him to leave shortly after he was done—totally against my original plans, but considering how humiliated I was, he needed to leave. I wanted to sulk without him knowing it.

T.K. sat back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “Mighty fine feast, Lisa Mae. Mighty fine.”

“Thanks,” was all I managed to mumble.

“I haven’t tasted pork chops this good since Charlene used to cook them. I hope you’ll invite me to dinner again soon.”

I shrugged. “That depends, T.K.”

He sipped his water before speaking. “Depends on what?”

“You … because you seem to have issues with respecting our relationship, T.K.”

“Lisa Mae, what are you talking about? Your behavior this evening—not to mention yesterday at the restaurant—is way out of character for you. Help me understand what’s going on with you.”

“Oh, my fault, T.K. I guess I’m just not used to being in a relationship with a man who doesn’t know how to put his lady first. Frankly, I think you’re confused, and now you’ve got me confused. Who do you want, T.K.? Is it Marlene … is it Savannah … is it Monique … or do you want me?” T.K. sat quietly, unable to respond. I threw my napkin on the table. “You don’t know, do you?”

I was shocked to see T.K. stand up, heading for his suit jacket. I followed him. “Lisa Mae, I need some time alone. Thanks again for dinner. I’ll call you later.”

I put my arms around his waist and pulled him to me. “T.K., I’ve been thinking I was your woman for a while now. What happened?”

He held me back. “Nothing happened. Everyone knows I’m dating you.”

“Then why was my question so difficult for you?” I asked. He stared at me with those sexy eyes, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. “I love you, T.K. Can you say the same to me?” Again silence. I dropped my arms from his waist. “T.K., you have to make a choice.”

He sighed. “You’re right, Lisa Mae. I do need to make a choice. And I plan to do so soon. If not for my sake, then for the church’s.” He kissed my forehead. “Have a blessed night, Lisa Mae.” And just like that, he was gone.

A
LISON AND THE
F
IRST
L
ADY

I was feeling a little depressed as I carried an arrangement of Charlene’s favorite flowers to her gravesite. The orchids and lilies were an attempt to pick up her spirits and mine, maybe soften the blow before I told her about what I considered to be an absolutely horrible morning. Things had occurred at the church that could quite possibly change everything we’d worked so hard to set into motion in the last six months.