“I am so sick and tired of you! I wish I had left you in prison.” He slammed her head against the floor. “Trifling wench! You’re probably working with those tramps on that show to make me look bad!”
“Nathan, stop. Please,” Mary cried, tugging at her hair to ease the pain. He had her hair wrapped around his hand as he dragged her around. She felt like her hair was being ripped from her scalp.
“I have everything riding on this and you’re just blowing it!” He released her hair, then kicked her in the side again. She let out a piercing scream.
“Shut up!” Nathan yelled. He raised his foot to kick her again, but before his foot could connect with her side, Alvin jumped on his father’s back.
“Stop it! You’re hurting her!” Alvin’s fists pummeled his father. The move caught Nathan off guard momentarily before he reached up and flung Alvin off him like a rag doll.
Alvin hit the wall and slid to the floor next to Mary, who scrambled over to cover him before Nathan could hurt him anymore. She covered her stepson with her body and braced herself for more beatings. But after a few seconds, she saw Nathan take a deep breath, then retreat from the room without saying a word.
“Why do you and Grandma let them hit you?” Alvin had asked her later as he helped her put ice on her side. That question caused Rachel’s words to resonate in her head. So, Nathan’s dad was abusive? She resolved that she would not play a role in continuing that cycle. She would not become a statistic. Alvin wasn’t seriously hurt. This time.
Mary didn’t have an exit plan yet, but as her mind replayed that horrible memory, she closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer. “Lord, help me find a way out.”
“The word of God is indisputable . . .” Nathan said from the pulpit. Mary opened her eyes, but still tuned him out. He might as well have been speaking in Portuguese because she would never listen to anything he said again.
It seemed like it took forever, but service finally wrapped up. Mary sent Alvin with one of his classmates and she made her way back to Nathan’s office. She had just rounded the corner when she saw him leaning in toward a young female member and flirtatiously whispering in her ear. The girl saw Mary and tensed. Nathan looked up and his eyes met his wife’s. Still, he didn’t move.
“Okay, Rev. Thank you,” the girl said, ducking from under his arm and scurrying off.
“What was that about?” Mary asked as she followed Nathan into his office. Truthfully, she didn’t care. Cheating was the least of her concerns when it came to her husband.
“You know I can’t share things the members tell me.” He slowly removed his robe, then glared at her. “But maybe I’m looking to replace you.”
“You know, I’m not trying to fight with you,” Mary said, closing his office door. “I know you have the service at three. Alvin went with the Robinsons, but I was trying to see what you want to do about dinner.” That wasn’t the real reason she’d come back here, but she hadn’t yet gotten up the nerve to say what she really wanted to say.
“Nah, I’m good,” he replied. “I’m just going to hang around here until the next service. Since you and Alvin seem to be such a team, why don’t you go on?”
“Why are you doing this to your son?” Mary asked. “He’s just a child. He doesn’t deserve your wrath.”
Nathan released a small chuckle. “Oh, so now you of all people are going to tell me how to raise a son?”
At that moment, Mary hated her husband with everything inside her. “Why are you so mean?” she found herself saying.
Nathan slammed his palm on his desk. “Because my wife, who is supposed to have my back, doesn’t. I’m doing this for us. For you. I’m trying to get your son.”
The words that had been swirling in her head for the last few days finally found their way out of her mouth. “Maybe Lewis is better off where he is,” Mary softly said. She’d waited specifically to do this at church, where he was less likely to hit her. They had court in the morning. Once again, Nathan had pulled strings and gotten their case expedited. But Mary no longer wanted to go through with it.
The look on his face showed his contempt. “You are so weak.” She fought back tears as he came from behind the desk and stepped closer to her. “I handpick you from prison to try and give you a better life. You don’t appreciate it. You don’t appreciate me.”
“I just . . . I can’t take the abuse. I can’t take you putting your hands on me.”
“Stop pushing me, then,” he replied. “As long as you’re my wife, you’re my property and I’ll do what I want.”
Mary took a deep breath and held her head up high. “I’m nobody’s property,” she said, finding strength for the first time since she’d stepped off the prison grounds. “As a matter of fact, I want a divorce.” There. She’d said it. And no words had ever felt so liberating.
Nathan seemed shocked, but then he stepped closer. Mary’s first instinct was to flinch, but she’d already told herself, if he touched her, they would be fighting right there in the church office.
Nathan was so close now, she could feel the heat of his breath. “Don’t get it twisted. I bought you,” he said slowly. The veins in his neck tightened as a sinister smile crept onto his face. “I own you. You don’t divorce me. This is like prison, baby. This is a life sentence unless, and until, I say otherwise.”
A heavy silence hung in the air, interrupted only by a knock on the door.
“Mr. Nathan Frazier?” a voice called out from the other side.
Nathan glared at her again, then composed himself and walked over to the door.
“Yes? I’m Rev. Frazier. May I help you?”
Mary couldn’t see who was at the door, but she heard a man say, “I’m Detective Paul Davis. This is my partner, Lola McShan. We have a warrant to search your office and your computer.”
“What? Search for what?” he exclaimed. His attitude had completely shifted.
Detective Davis handed Nathan a piece of paper as he and his partner, followed by two uniformed policemen, entered the office.
No one spoke to Mary as they immediately began going through Nathan’s stuff.
“What in the world is going on?” Nathan said.
Detective Davis stopped and turned to face Nathan. “We have cause to believe that you have child pornography in your office.”
His mouth fell open in shock. “What? Are you crazy? I don’t do child pornography.”
Detective McShan smiled as she patted him on the back. “Well, if that’s the case, we’ll be in and out.”
“This is ridiculous and a huge mistake!”
“We won’t be long,” Detective Davis said, as one of the policemen opened the cabinets over Nathan’s bookcase.
“Fine,” Nathan said, stepping to the side. “Check wherever you need to. I don’t have anything to hide. And when this is all over, I’ll demand a written apology from your department.”
“Thank you, we’ll only be a minute,” Detective Davis said, sitting down at Nathan’s desk. He began tapping away on the computer.
“This is some BS,” Nathan said, pacing back and forth as the other officers went through drawers and mounds of paperwork. I’m a man of God and y’all just trying . . .” His voice trailed off as Detective Davis turned the screen around to face him. On the screen was the image of a little girl, no more than eight or nine years old. That picture disappeared and another one popped up. Then, another and another. The slideshow was filled with little boys and girls of all races, all naked as the day they were born.
“That’s not mine!” Nathan yelled.
Detective Davis motioned toward a uniformed officer, who took a pair of handcuffs off his belt and stepped toward Nathan.
“Nathan Frazier, you have the right to remain silent . . .”
“That’s not mine!” Nathan repeated.
“. . . Anything you say can and will be held against you.”
“I’ve been set up!”
“You have the right to an attorney.”
/> “Mary, do something,” Nathan shouted as they slapped the handcuffs on his wrists.
Mary was frozen in place. Nathan was into child pornography? What kind of man had she married?
“You know I didn’t do this,” he cried as they shuttled him toward the door. “Tell them I wouldn’t do this!”
The associate pastor, Reverend Mills, rushed in. “Pastor, what’s going on?”
“I’m being set up!” he continued screaming as they dragged him out. “Somebody get my lawyer on the phone. Mary, you’d better get this taken care of tonight!” His voice trailed off as they carted him out. Mary knew she probably should’ve followed him out. She probably should’ve tried to get more answers. Nathan didn’t seem like the type who dabbled in child pornography. But then, he hadn’t seemed like an abuser, either.
“Sister Frazier, what in the world happened?” Reverend Mills asked.
Mary shook herself out of her daze, then slowly turned toward the deacon. “God answers prayers,” she said, before grabbing her purse and walking out of the office.
Chapter
THIRTY-SIX
Natasia
God answers prayers!
That was the mantra going through Natasia’s mind as she stuffed the last of her toiletries into the overnight bag. She’d arrived at the hospital with nothing but the clothes on her back, but the way she was packing now to leave, she felt like she’d been away on a mini-vacation.
All because of Hosea. For the last five days, he’d taken care of every one of her needs so that she was more than comfortable. Being surrounded by a few of her own books and her own toiletries, wearing her own night clothes, and even having a picture of her parents by her bedside made the stay bearable. All of that was Hosea’s idea.
Then, there was seeing him every day—that made this whole hospital stay worthwhile. During those days, they’d spent time together, prayed together, became closer. So close that she hoped Hosea would never want to be far from her again.
And based on the conversation they’d had last night, everything she hoped for was coming to pass.
“I’m really sorry, darlin’, but I won’t be able to be there in the morning.”
Darlin’. Natasia pressed the phone to her ear as if that would help her hold on to that word. She wondered if Hosea even noticed that he’d started using that term of endearment with her. It was the fifth time; she’d been keeping count.
“So, I won’t be able to pick you up,” he continued. “I was called back to New York for an emergency meeting. I’m at the airport now.”
“That’s okay, boo. I mean, Hosea.” Natasia had cringed when she’d made that slipup and she prayed that he hadn’t heard her. He could slip, she could not.
He said, “I want you to know though, that I did talk to Jasmine.”
Natasia held her breath. For days, Hosea had talked to her about living with him and Jasmine so that she would have someone to look after her. She had protested as if living with him was the very last thing on earth that she would dream of doing. She’d told him that she wasn’t an invalid, she’d told him that she could live alone, she’d told him that his wife would never accept this and she didn’t want to cause any trouble.
But every time, he’d waved her words away, letting her know that she was just as important to him as his wife.
Hosea broke into her thoughts. “It took a little bit of convincing, but Jasmine has agreed that we should help you.”
“Oh, my God,” Natasia breathed. “Are you serious? It’s okay with her if I move in?”
There was the crackle of static and then, “Natasia, Natasia, can you hear me?” More static. “I don’t know if you can hear me.” Static. “Natasia!”
Then, nothing. She called right back, but her call went straight to voicemail. She sighed but wore a smile on her face. She’d won. She was going to live with Hosea.
Now, as she packed, she rolled it all around in her head. Every dream she’d had for the last few years was coming true. Of course, Hosea’s wife living in the same house hadn’t been how she’d imagined it, but it was still going to work out.
A knock on the door made her turn around, still with a smile on her face. Maybe Hosea had come back for her. Then, her smile turned right upside down.
“Natasia,” Jasmine said, curtly, as if she had a major attitude.
The creases in Natasia’s forehead deepened when Rachel strutted in right behind Jasmine.
“What are you doing here?” Natasia folded her arms, but she backed up a little. Had Jasmine come here to beat her down? Is that why she had Ms. Floyd Mayweather with her?
“Didn’t Hosea call you? We’re here to take you home,” Jasmine said as she glanced at Rachel.
“Yup,” Rachel said. “You went after her man and it seems like you got what you wanted.”
“She hasn’t gotten anything,” Jasmine snapped.
Rachel plopped onto the bed next to Natasia’s bag. “Let me ask you this, Jasmine. You came to pick her up, right?” she said as if Natasia wasn’t standing right there.
“Yeah.”
Rachel continued, “And you’re taking her home, right?”
“The only reason I’m here is because my husband asked me to do it.”
Rachel raised her hands as if she’d just scored a touchdown. “Like I said, she won.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes and turned to Natasia. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, her tone letting Natasia know Jasmine would leave her in the hospital if she’d said no.
“Yes, but I still have to wait for the discharging nurse,” she said, just as an attendant walked in with a wheelchair.
“Are you ready to go, Ms. Redding?” the young man, dressed in all white, asked.
Natasia looked first at Jasmine, then at Rachel. Clearly, they weren’t here for a fight. Hosea had sent them, so it had to be all right. “Yeah,” she said finally. “I am ready.” Pointing to the wheelchair, she added, “But I don’t need that.”
The young man’s shoulder-length locks swayed as he shook his head. “Hospital policy. You wouldn’t want me to lose my job, would you?”
“All right.” Natasia grabbed her bag from the bed, hesitated for a moment, then handed it to Jasmine.
Jasmine looked her up, then down, before she snatched the bag from Natasia’s hand.
Wearing a super-size smile, Natasia sat in the chair and leaned back. “I’m ready”—she glanced over her shoulder at Jasmine—“to go home.”
Jasmine glared at her, and that just made Natasia feel like the winner she was.
“Let me push,” Rachel shouted with an enthusiasm that wiped Natasia’s smile away.
If the attendant had agreed, Natasia would’ve stood up and walked out on her own. That young man would just have to be fired.
But the young man said, “I’d lose my job if I turned her over to you.”
So, Natasia sat back, relaxed, and tried to imagine the way the conversation had gone down between Jasmine and Hosea. Natasia hoped that there had been a lot of heated words exchanged, enough to create a huge chasm between them. And definitely tears. She hoped that Jasmine had cried until she could hardly breathe. She hoped that enough animosity was built up between Jasmine and Hosea so that wall would never come down. And she would be right there to comfort Hosea.
Jasmine had been a fool, really. No matter what Hosea said, Jasmine never should’ve agreed to this. Hadn’t she ever heard the rule of never letting another woman stay in your home? Her mother and grandmother used to say that all the time when she was growing up. Natasia hadn’t really understood that sentiment then, but as a grown woman, she understood it now. And if everything went according to her plan, Jasmine would understand it, too. Soon enough.
Only the attendant spoke as he rolled Natasia to the elevator. He chatted about the cool summer temperatures, and how he was sure Natasia was glad to be leaving.
But Natasia wasn’t listening to any of his words. Her ears were perked to hear the whispers betwe
en Jasmine and Rachel.
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Rachel call Jasmine stupid. And then Jasmine asked what was she supposed to do?
With every bit of the conversation, Natasia’s smile widened. By the time the attendant got her down to Jasmine’s waiting car, Natasia’s grin was so wide, her cheeks hurt.
“Do you want to get in the back?” the attendant asked Natasia.
But Rachel answered for her. “No, put her right up there in the seat of honor,” Rachel said, pointing to the front passenger seat. “Since she’s about to be the queen of the castle.”
“Would you shut up!” Jasmine growled.
Natasia wanted to stand up and applaud Rachel. Now, she wished that she’d been nicer to her. Rachel seemed to be enjoying this as much as she was. If they’d been working together, they could’ve destroyed Jasmine.
Maybe she would talk to Rachel again. Maybe there was still some way for Rachel to help her. And if she did, maybe she would reconsider showing the sermon scene.
Maybe.
Natasia slid from the wheelchair into the car and settled in, waiting to be driven.
This is classic, she thought. All those years ago when she’d been fired from Hosea’s show, Natasia bet that Jasmine believed that she’d won. She probably believed that the two of them would never cross paths again.
How wrong she’d been, though Natasia had to admit those had been her thoughts, too. But this was just an example of how true love could wait. It could endure anything—time and space. This was an example of how God truly, truly answered the prayers of the righteous.
“So, Natasia,” Rachel said from the backseat the moment Jasmine took off from the parking lot. “How are you feeling?”
Natasia froze. Had Hosea told them what was wrong with her? If he had, this was a disaster—Jasmine and Rachel would tell the world.
But then she released a long exhale. Hosea would never betray her confidence. Never.
So, she said, “I’m fine. Just had a touch of the flu,” she said, repeating the story that she’d told Melinda and everyone else from OWN.
Fortune & Fame: A Novel Page 24