Last night was the most restless night I’d had in all of my life. After my meeting with Solomon, I drove home in a daze. The events of the night quickly took their toll on me. I knew I had to be tired because when I got home, Chanice was putting DJ to bed—something I always did—and I thought nothing of it.
In a zombie-like state, I went to my bedroom and submerged into my sea of comfort, hoping to gain some sense out of everything I’d learned.
Darvin had tried to reach me several times on my cell while I was talking to Solomon, but I’d missed his calls. He finally resorted to leaving a message—expressing his displeasure at not being able to reach me—and to let me know he’d left his battery charger in the car when I dropped him off at the airport. I tried to reach him back via the hotel’s number, but I’d only gotten his suite’s voicemail system. It frustrated me to my wit’s end, but I didn’t want to share with him the information about Daphne by way of a message; I wanted to tell him myself.
This morning, I’d gotten up, made a phone call to Florida, dressed DJ, and was now sitting in church, listening to Mount Zion’s senior assistant pastor, Scott Randall, begin his sermon.
However, my thoughts were far away from this morning’s message. My mind was solely focused on confronting Daphne Carlton when she waltzed her behind up in the sanctuary. I was going to take the microphone, expose her for who she really was, and then have the police to haul her lying, trifling butt away.
I had already spoken to the chief elders, Chanice, and a few other key people in leadership, to let them know what was going on. Security had been contacted, and they were on standby. Although I couldn’t have her arrested on the charges of impersonating someone who didn’t exist, I could at least have her locked up for violating our restraining order.
I was furious, to say the least. I was blowing hell’s inferno from my nostrils. I shivered at the thought of Dawn Carlton actually being Daphne Carlton. She was brilliant, and had played us all for fools. She somehow convinced us that she was a twin, when according to the phone call I made to her mother this morning, she had no sisters.
“Hello?”
“Hello. May I speak with Ms. Carlton, please?”
“This is she. How can I help you?”
“This is Michelle Johnson. You don’t know me—”
She interrupted. “I know who you are.”
Taken aback, I stammered for my next words. “Well, I was calling about your daughter, Dawn.”
“You mean Daphne.”
“No, your other daughter, Dawn.”
“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t have a daughter named Dawn. I have one daughter, and her name is Daphne.”
After the reality of what was going on set in, Daphne’s mother told me all about how she’d tried to convince her silly daughter to leave us alone, and how she knew one day this would all backfire on her. And she couldn’t have been more right.
It was almost the end of Pastor Randall’s sermon, and Daphne still had not made an appearance. It was unusual for her not to have been here by now. Maybe she’d gotten word that she was about to be out in the open, and had tucked her tails and ran. Or maybe . . .
“First Lady, are you going to go out and greet visitors today?” Chanice asked, cutting into my thoughts.
“No,” I said firmly. “Did you notice whether or not Daphne walked in?”
“No, ma’am, I didn’t. I will ask Elder Spencer.”
Chanice beckoned for the elder, and after conversing with him for a moment, we discovered that Daphne had not shown up for service—not this service, or the one before it. Something seemed very strange about that.
After service had ended, I went to my office and retreated to my couch.
Why hadn’t Daphne shown up? Did she leave town? Did she discover I was about to bring her down? It was all driving me insane.
“First Lady, I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you.”
“That’s the thing, Chanice. You are not me. You don’t know what this woman had done to me, my family, and our church. So, please, do not give me unsolicited advice right now. I need to think.”
Chanice resigned and walked out of the office to give me some time alone. That was one of the things I loved about her. She was able to know what to do without me having to tell her.
I had to think. I glanced at the desk clock; it was almost time for Darvin to be getting up to preach at Bethelite’s second service. I thought about calling the church, but I didn’t want to alter his train of thought before his message. However, I needed to talk to him before the night service. I had been in the game long enough to know that he would probably be busy all the way up to the evening service with brunches, meetings, and other things the church had planned for him to do. I was afraid that I wouldn’t get the opportunity to tell him what was going on. Knowing Daphne, she was planning something. And I knew enough about her twisted mind to know that if I didn’t move swiftly, she would destroy us all.
A thought occurred to me. I walked to the door and opened it.
“Chanice, get my mother on the phone. Tell her to meet me at her house in an hour. Let her know that I need her to keep DJ overnight. Afterward, find Sabrina and tell her that I want her to book me on the next flight to Baltimore.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Michelle
The plane ride to Baltimore had been smooth, unlike my nerves.
I retrieved my bags from baggage claim, and proceeded to the rental car zone. Sabrina had taken care of my arrangements for me, and in no time, I was making my way to the Marriott hotel. Ann had given me Darvin’s hotel room number, and I planned to go there first.
MapQuest led me straight to the hotel without getting lost. I got out, left my car with the valet, and went inside. At the desk, I requested an extra key to Darvin’s room.
“I’m Mrs. Johnson, and I need an extra key to my suite, nineteen thirty-four.”
“Sure, Mrs. Johnson,” the clerk said. She looked into computer, and then frowned. “Wait a minute. I have you listed in suite nineteen thirty-one. Are you sure that your suite number is nineteen thirty-four?” she asked, confused.
“Yes. The room is listed in the name of Darvin Johnson, and I’m his wife.”
With that, she looked at me as if I’d spoken a different language. She input something else into the computer.
“Can I see your ID please?” she asked.
I was getting agitated, but I pulled my driver’s license out of my wallet and presented it.
“Hmm. Mrs. Johnson,” she said, handing my license back to me, “there’s a slight little issue here. You are right. You are in nineteen thirty-four, but for some reason, there are two suites listed under Darvin Johnson. I guess you’re also in nineteen thirty-one,” she joked. “I’m sorry for the confusion.
Let me get you that key.”
She walked away as my head began to throb. I kept telling myself not to panic or get prematurely upset, but why were there two suites in Darvin’s name? I knew for a fact that his armor bearer did not travel with him, because I had been the one to drive him to the airport. Besides that, I’d seen his armor bearer, Shadar, at church earlier this morning. Darvin had insisted he go alone, because he didn’t want Shadar all up in the air about his reason for being in Baltimore.
She came back and gave me the key.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Johnson? I’m about to end my shift, but would be glad to assist you with anything further.”
I forced a smile. “No. That will be all.”
I managed to pick up my feet and walk toward the elevator. Inside, I pressed the button for the nineteenth floor.
Once to the suite’s door, I held my breath, not knowing what to expect when I walked in.
I dropped the key card in the lock, and at the prompt of the green light, opened the door. The scent of Darvin’s HIM-istry cologne was still lingering in the room. I inhaled. I’d missed him in the short period of time we’d been a
way from each other.
My sacred moment was interrupted when I caught a glimpse of a receipt lying on the desk. I picked it up as if it had leprosy.
My fear suddenly became my reality. Darvin had dined with someone last night in the hotel’s restaurant, and I was sure that someone was occupying suite nineteen thirty-one.
I was so shaken; I backed into the bed and helplessly sat down. I stared at the receipt, trying to will away the notion that Darvin had been with another woman. A part of me wanted to convince myself that it was harmless—maybe someone from the church. But I knew better. Only a woman would order a grilled chicken Caesar salad for an entrée. Only a woman would care to eat so light. A woman who was watching her weight.
The light in the room grew dim. My head was spinning and my heart was pounding faster than the speed of light. I could have sworn that the room was closing in on me, as rage was being injected into me by the syringe of hatred. I had come all this way only to find out that my husband was cheating on me. Was it that woman from months ago, who he’d admitted to almost sleeping with? I remembered him saying how supportive she was. Maybe since I had refused to accompany him, he’d relied on her for encouragement.
This just couldn’t be. My emotions were playing on a see-saw in my heart, and my soul ached at its core.
The sound of something being slid under the door made me snap out of my pain for a moment. I went to the door and picked up the white envelope. I flipped it over and saw the red-lipstick imprint of a woman’s lips plastered on it.
I opened the envelope and read its contents:
Dear Pastor,
By the time you read this, you will have already accepted Bethelite’s invitation to become their next pastor. Service was phenomenal this morning—I’ve never been so proud in my life. I heard that you were meeting with the search team to discuss the transition (a little birdie told me), and so I know you won’t have time to talk before you preach the evening service.
However, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your success. If you are willing, take the key inside and meet me at midnight in the hotel’s penthouse for a small celebration dinner. Last night’s dinner started out wonderfully, but things seemed to take a turn for the worse. Let me make it up to you. No strings attached. No funny business. Just dinner. You deserve it.
By the way, after you make the big announcement tonight to accept the church, I will have a big one for you as well. Oh, what the heck—I’ll tell you now. I’m planning to relocate here to assist you however I can.
Remember, I told you last night that I’m a lifelong supporter of your ministry, and that means wherever you go, I’ll be there. And I’ll be there to serve in whatever capacity you may need me.
Okay, enough for now. I’ll tell you the rest later. See you at tonight’s service. Well, I’ll see you, but you won’t see me. (smile)
Dawn
P.S. Although simple, I hope the kiss meant as much to you as it did to me. Your reaction was priceless.
It took heaven and the entire host of angels, to keep me from running out of that room and kicking down Daphne’s door. How could Darvin fall for her, out of all women?
I paced the floor angrily, trying to figure out what I was going to do. My strategy had been to come here, surprise Darvin by showing up at the evening service, and spend a quiet evening informing him about the latest of Daphne Carlton. The nerve of him to be having dinner with the enemy!
I was unsure of how I wanted to deal with this.
No, I knew exactly how I wanted to deal with it, but I knew I couldn’t behave improperly as a first lady.
I picked up the phone and placed a call to the bellman to come and get my bags. I needed to get another suite in order for me to carefully devise my plan. I couldn’t take any chances; one mistake would push everything awry.
Two hours later, I drove up to Bethelite International Baptist Church. In all of the times Darvin had preached here, I’d never come. I wasn’t into being the traveling Pastor’s wife, preferring more to tend to the things at home.
The church was beyond striking, and thousands of people filed into the building for tonight’s service. My heart warmed at the thought of these people coming to hear what my husband had to say. Darvin had definitely achieved an elite status among Pastors, and it showed tonight as parishioners hurried inside to get good seats. I was only planning to stay long enough to get a message to Daphne. I prayed that God would hear my prayer, and I would easily be able to slip the note to her.
I took a seat in the back of the church as others breezed by not knowing who I was. Service was soon underway. it felt abnormal being a part of the audience and not being on stage.
After the usual praise and worship, and all other elements of the program, Darvin entered the massive pulpit. The church erupted in applause. I went from being angry with him to feeling a sense of joy. I was so caught up in the moment, I almost missed Daphne bouncing in like a spring chicken. I must admit, she was dressed to kill. With every step she took, my fists balled tighter. I could just see myself knocking her teeth out. But I had to stick to my plan. For now.
Once she was seated, I motioned for the usher. He walked over to where I was sitting.
“You see that young lady over there in the powder blue suit? The one who was just seated over there on the end?” I pointed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“She’s a friend of mine, and I’m going to have to run. I didn’t want to walk down the aisle, so if you could just give her this note, I would appreciate it.”
“I sure will. I’ll do it right now.”
I watched the usher walk over to Daphne and give her the note that I’D expertly written in Darvin’s handwriting. As his wife, I’d done it a million times for one reason or another. By the time she unfolded it, I’d disappeared.
As I walked back to my car, I smiled. I would get rid of Daphne once and for all.
Forget being a first lady.
Forget the expectation that I had to take whatever was given.
Not anymore. Never again.
Yes, I still had to deal with Darvin, but I would concentrate on him later. Right now, my target was the woman who’d tried to wreck my life.
And this time, I aimed to bring her down.
Chapter Thirty-five
Daphne
Just as Darvin was entering the pulpit, an usher handed me a note.
Chills raced the length of my spine. The last time I received a note in church, it was from Solomon. Surely he wouldn’t have followed me here. Or would he?
I opened the note written in Darvin’s handwriting, and a huge smile spread across my face. It read:
JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT I’M THINKING OF YOU—ONLY YOU. THANKS FOR ALL THAT YOU DO.–PASTOR
I wanted to stand up and shout, “Hallelujah!” I’d finally won him over. He was finally able to see just how much he meant to me. The way I felt right now was enough to make me forget all of the hills I had to climb to get to the top of the mountain. It didn’t matter anymore, because my new life had just begun. Tonight, Darvin would accept Bethelite’s proposal, and tomorrow morning, I would wake up in his arms.
I watched Darvin in his element as he maneuvered the crowd with the exquisite manner in which he spoke. Thousands of people watched him with an eye of respect, grateful that God had sent him. Some were even throwing money at his feet, further pushing him up the sermonic cliff.
“Church, no matter what the enemy tries to do, God is still in control,” he encouraged.
Amens rang throughout the building.
“I have found myself in the lion’s den, just as Daniel. I have found myself facing a Red Sea, just as Moses. On many occasions, I’ve found myself in the valley of dry bones, just as Ezekiel. And Lord knows I’ve found myself in the valley of the shadow of death, just as David.” People were nodding their agreements. “But, saints, I’m here to leave you with a word of hope. I’m here to let you know that we serve an awesome God. I’m here to
tell you that Jesus can bring you peace in the midst of a storm. There is a way out of no way. Reach over and tell your neighbor, ‘you can make it.’ ” Everyone did as told, and he continued. “I want to inform some woman who’s at the end of her rope that God can and He will deliver. Some man, tonight, might be on drugs—my brother, you don’t have to get high on crack. You can get high on Jesus!” he shouted.
By this time, not a single person was sitting, including me. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt the spirit fill me. I could testify to everything that he preached. I was a living witness that just when you feel all hope is lost, God will throw you a lifeline.
The church service had been awesome—that was, up until Darvin made the shocking announcement that he would not take on the pastorate at Bethelite. Everyone was stunned—including me.
Hours later, I was waiting in the penthouse, hoping he would show up. My hopes and dreams of becoming the First Lady of Bethelite had been crushed. I was so sure that he was going to accept, I hadn’t intended on a defeat. I concluded that something must have happened between the morning services and the evening service. There was no way any pastor in his right mind would turn down such an opportunity as he was given.
Needless to say, I was a little perturbed. Tonight was my last chance to get Darvin to fall in love with me before we were back in Atlanta.
Atlanta.
I couldn’t go back. There was nothing there for me if I didn’t have Darvin. I’d arranged to move everything here. If I went back, Solomon or Twylah were sure to expose me. Even if they didn’t have any proof of my true identity, it was still too risky. I was beginning to get depressed. Darvin had destroyed everything.
Dressed in a black negligee with a satin robe serving as my covering, and standing amidst the dimly lit room, I walked over to the window and gazed down at the buzz going on outside in the busy street. I then cast my focus to the city’s skyline. I was growing more disappointed by the second. Baltimore was supposed to be my new home.
Diary of a Mad First Lady Page 25