Preacher's Wifey

by Dishan Washington

  “Don’t get the wrong impression of me. I am not an alcoholic,” he said, chuckling. “I drink socially. And since you are drinking the West Paces Mary, why not have a straight vodka shot? Your drink is just a remix of a Bloody Mary, and it has vodka too, you know.”

  Calvin returned and sat Seth’s drink in front of him.

  “So, about this medical conference next week . . . Are you lecturing?” I asked.

  “Yes, I will be speaking to a group of young physicians just starting out in medicine. I will be answering any questions they may have about the different career options available to them as they embark on their new journey in the field.”

  “Sounds interesting.” I took a few more bites of my salad. “How did you end up working in an abortion clinic?”

  As soon as I asked the question, I wished I could take it back. His face hardened, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

  “I was engaged to a woman who killed my baby, and in a sick, twisted way I wanted to take that pain out on everybody else. And so I started killing babies for a living. After a while, long after I had gotten counseling to deal with it, it became just a job. It paid the bills, and I guess I sort of got stuck. Never had the desire to switch to anything else in the medical field—until I met you. You sparked something in me, which led me to do a lot of soul-searching. So I decided to go start doing what I trained and studied to do.”

  “Which is what?”

  “I’m a surgeon.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  “I know, right? You would have never guessed it, huh? I have been working at the clinic for only three years.”

  My mind was racing. “Oh, so that is why you were so concerned about me that day in your office? It brought back some bad memories for you?”

  “Yeah. Like you, I wanted my baby. The woman I was engaged to wanted her career more.” His face flinched, and even though he tried to hide it, I could see the mental anguish in his expressions. It still bothered him. “That is why I was so adamant about you making that decision for yourself and not for a man who is obviously too selfish and self-absorbed to see he has a good woman. Many of us single men would do anything to have a good woman.”

  He looked so intently in my eyes, I dropped my fork. I picked up my drink and sipped and sipped and sipped. I was at a loss for words. My hands started doing that shaking thing again, and my insides quivered more than they did when he first walked up to me. What was this man doing to me? I didn’t recall ever having these types of feelings unless a man had just taken me shopping or was about to give me some good sex.

  “I . . . I . . . I don’t know what to say,” I said, finally releasing the death grip I had on my drink. In a moment, my drink had transformed itself into something equivalent to a security blanket. “I will say I misjudged you that day at the clinic, and I am deeply sorry. I guess it is true that you cannot understand a person’s what without understanding their why.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken,” he said as he downed his shot in one gulp.

  I looked at my watch. As much as I was enjoying his conversation, it was time for me to go. I motioned for Calvin to come, asked for my check, and pulled my credit card out.

  “I’ll get this,” Seth said, grabbing the check.

  “Oh, no,” I protested. “I got it. It’s not like we are on a date,” I joked.

  “We can be if you want,” he said, looking deep into my eyes once again.

  If this man keeps that up . . .

  “If I was not a married woman, I would consider taking you up on that offer.”

  “You do not have to be a married woman. You could always get a divorce and marry me.”

  Was he serious? Okay, he was freaking me out.

  His burst of laughter broke the tension of the moment. “Girl, I was just playing. Lighten up,” he said, touching my shoulder.

  Dear Lord, please don’t let this man touch me again. I may just have to . . .

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  He said something?

  “No, I did not. What did you say?”

  Before he could answer, Calvin came back for the check. Seth scribbled his room number on the ticket, authorizing the bar to charge the lunch to his room.

  Room 1213.

  “You ready?” Seth asked.

  “Yep,” I said, rising from my seat. “I must say, although it was a very short one, I enjoyed this lunch with you.”

  I was desperately trying to mask the sound of disappointment in my voice. The last thing I needed was to sound desperate or thirsty.

  “I enjoyed it as well. Can I walk you to the spa?”

  I mulled over his question for a second. I wanted to scream yes, but the reality was, our church was in Atlanta, and at any given moment someone could see me and mistake an innocent walk for something more. It was one of those times when I could not afford to let my good be spoken of in an evil way. It was one of the many prices you paid for living a life in a glass bowl, where everyone could see your virtues and your vices.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea, Seth. I mean, I would love for you to walk me there,” I confessed, “but I just do not want to risk anyone seeing us and mistaking us for a couple.”

  “I totally understand. Well, again, I enjoyed your company. Since you come here on a weekly basis, I guess I will see you next week, then.” It was a statement, but his tone asked a question.

  What harm could it do to see him again next week? I would be here. He would be here. Two people who happened to be at the same place at the same time. Harmless, right?

  “Sure. I, um, usually come around the same time each week.”

  He looked down at his watch.

  “So, I will see you next week right here, at one P.M. It’s a date,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  He was a charmer.

  “No, not a date. Just a meeting,” I said.

  “Meeting? What will we be discussing?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

  That was a darn good question. I had no idea, so I just smiled while I tried to quickly come up with a reply.

  “A long time ago, before my life went in another direction, I wanted to become a nurse.”

  “Really? And why didn’t you?”

  “I will tell you at our meeting next week,” I said. I was proud of that think-on-your-feet answer I gave him.

  He appreciated it as well.

  “That is a good one, Miss Lady.” He looked at his watch again. “I don’t want to hold you any longer. But I will say this.” He leaned in closer to my left ear. “I absolutely cannot wait to see you again next week. It will be all I think about until then.”

  And with that he walked away.

  The heat from his words set my soul and my body on fire. I was afraid to turn around and see which direction he went in, because I did not trust my feet to stay put and not run behind him. Something I could not explain was slowly taking over me, for while I truly wanted to make things work with Byran, Seth was beginning to take my attention off of home, and he had done it in a short span of time.

  I waited for about five minutes before I felt it was safe to turn around. I looked down every hallway I passed to see if I could catch another glimpse of him. He was definitely eye candy to a sweet eye. Standing over six foot tall, with good, thick, wavy hair that was just long enough to run the tips of your nails through and beautiful brown eyes—he was temptation wrapped up in the best-looking complexion I had seen. Byran was fine, but he wasn’t that fine.

  I pushed open the door to the spa, signed the check-in list, and waited for them to call my name. I browsed the retail products and made a mental note to purchase some facial products that I had run out of at home. Afterward, I picked up a magazine, flipped through the pages, and tried to pretend my mind was not being invaded by thoughts of Seth. I found myself smiling for no reason.

  Finally, the receptionist signaled it was time for my relaxation to begin. I could not have been happier. I was ready to rid myself of
all my problems—both good and bad.

  “Mrs. Ward, will you be going into the steam room prior to your treatment today, or do you prefer to get straight into the pampering?” Brittany, the host, asked.

  I considered my options. My hair was already pretty much a mess, anyway, so a little steam might do me some good. It would definitely be good for my skin.

  “I think I will sit a few minutes.”

  “Okay, well, since you are regular, you know how it works. I’ll let Amanda know you are going to sit for a few before you are ready for your massage.”

  “Sounds perfect,” I said as I walked into the ladies’ locker room. I selected a locker and placed my purse inside. I undressed down to my panties and bra, hung my clothes on the hanger provided, put on the robe and slippers, closed and locked the locker, and placed the key in the pocket of my robe. I pulled my hair high up on my head into a ponytail holder and walked out.

  The steam room was just a few doors down. I hardly ever went in there, because no one seemed to ever be in there at this time of day to chat with, and I had a phobia of passing out and no one being around to help me. It was a crazy notion, but most phobias were. Today I needed to cleanse my pores and let the mist refresh me, and just maybe some of my personal steam would be left inside.

  I opened the door, and a gust of vapor slapped me in the face. Hardly able to see, I walked to the bench and sat down. I stretched my legs out and was just about to lean my head back against the wall when I heard a voice. His voice.

  “Steam does the body good, huh?”

  I sat up and squinted in an effort to try to see him better in the midst of the haze.

  “Seth?”

  “Yes, it’s me. In the flesh.” He laughed.

  “Wha . . . wha . . . what are you doing in here?” I asked, half excited and half annoyed. Didn’t this man know I was trying to run away from him?

  “You always stutter when you get around me. Or do you do that around other people as well?”

  “That is not important,” I shot back. “What are you doing in this steam room? I thought you had a meeting.”

  I could still barely see him, but I saw him plainly when he got up and walked over to me. Now he was in full view. He sat down so close to me, his leg touched mine. I closed my eyes, because I did not even want to see the damage the heat from his touch had done to my thigh.

  “You want the truth?”

  “You think I want a lie?”

  “Can you handle the truth?”

  “I guess there is only one way for me to find out.”

  “Fair enough,” he said and reached for my hand. “The truth is, I did not want to wait until next week to see you. I want to spend the rest of this afternoon with you.”

  “How did you know I would be here?”

  “You told me, remember?”

  “No, not here, as in the spa. How did you know I would be in the steam room?”

  “I gave the girl at the front desk a nice little tip to tell me what services you were going to be having. When you went in to change, she told me you were coming in here.”

  I was infuriated. What if he were a stalker?

  “I will speak to her about that. I do not appreciate her telling you without my permission where I would be. That jeopardizes my safety, among a lot of other things that are wrong with it.”

  “Did you know the girl who checked you in was hired not long ago as a part-time waitress at the bar?”

  “No. But what does that have to do anything?”

  “Well, for one, she was there working earlier and saw us having lunch together. You probably did not see her, just as I did not see her, because I was too engrossed in our conversation. But, anyway, she saw us.” In my mind that was still beside the point. It flattered me in a small way that he would go as far as paying someone to find out my whereabouts, but it was also kind of creepy. In the world we lived in now, you could never be too careful.

  “Okay, this is in a small way—and I do mean a small way—flattering. But I told you I cannot be seen with you. What if someone else walks in here and sees us?”

  “Allyson, we are sitting in the steam room, talking. It could be a simple coincidence.”

  He had a point.

  “But I am not worried about that happening,” he said.

  “And why not?”

  “I bought the spa out for the remainder of the day.” He said it so nonchalantly, as if that was a normal thing to do.

  “You what!” I exclaimed just above a whisper.

  “I knew two things. One, I wanted to spend the rest of my afternoon with you. Two, you would be worried about someone seeing you. So in order to get what I wanted, and for you to feel comfortable with me getting what I wanted, I paid for us to have the spa to ourselves.”

  This man was nuts. Where do they do that at?

  “How much did that cost?”

  If he did not have my attention before, he sure had it now. Was he balling like that?

  “Money is not an issue with me. And it will not be an issue for you, either. So can I please just enjoy my afternoon with the beautiful woman I am sitting next to?”

  I was speechless and did not trust any words to tumble out of my mouth. I was glad when he broke the silence.

  “So not only do you stutter around me, but at times you lose words altogether. Are you mad? Are you happy? Tell me. What are you thinking and feeling right now?”

  “I have no idea what I think or feel. A part of me thinks you are crazy, but the other part of me insanely trusts you.”

  “I am not here to hurt you, baby girl. I just want to love you.”

  Game! I knew it! It was all game. No man said that to a woman he barely knew. Obviously, he did not know what it meant to love someone, because if he did, he would not use the word so lightly.

  “You do not want to love me, Seth. So just stop it, okay? You do not have to say that.”

  Without one word, he leaned in and kissed me until my mouth was dry and until it felt all the steam had evaporated from the room.

  “I did not have to do that, either, but I did. In time, Allyson, you are going to see I am a good man and can recognize a good woman when I see one. If I for one minute thought I was coming between you and your husband, I would not pursue you the way that I do and plan to continue to do.”

  Either he was arrogant or very confident in himself.

  “It still isn’t right,” I said, dropping my head. I tried to calm my nerves, but his kiss had every last one of them on the edge.

  “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

  “It does not matter. I cannot carry on with you as if I am not a married woman.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Can we just enjoy the afternoon relaxing with each other at the spa? As new friends?”

  Friends. That was safe, right? I found myself asking that question a lot when it came to him. But I could be his friend. Couldn’t I?

  “Okay. As friends.”

  “Good. After this, you never have to see me again.”

  Ha. That was cute. He knew what he was doing, and I did too. And with every second we spent together, I was starting to forget all my troubles with Byran and his baby momma. There was a new sheriff in town, and his name was Seth Carson—Doctor Seth Carson.

  And he was rich.

  Chapter Eleven

  I walked into my house, still feeling like I was floating on a cloud.

  The afternoon with Seth had been great. We talked about everything, from our childhood to our five-year plan. It was intriguing to hear about how he grew up in the country, planting vegetables in his great-grandmother’s garden and shaking pecans from her tree. He spoke fondly about his grandmother, who had raised him in a small two-bedroom shack that was filled with love and plenty of food. His own mother had left him with his nana, as he called her, for a weekend and had never returned. Several months went by before they received the news that her body had been found in a ditch not too far from their house. She had b
een raped and beaten and was left for dead.

  Hearing him tell the story and watching him relive it was painful. The way he described in detail his feelings as a ten-year-old losing his mother made me feel as if it had happened to me. I listened intently as he recounted his memories of learning how to be the man of his nana’s house after his grandfather passed suddenly a couple of years later. He had a tough childhood and was pretty much a recluse throughout his teenage years. He did not spend his weekends going on dates like other guys his age, but rather riding tractors, feeding cows and horses, and tending to the land of his great-grandmother, Big Mama.

  I enjoyed listening to him and watching him light up when he talked about his grandmother, who was now an elderly woman, sick with renal failure. It was obvious he loved her dearly and felt responsible for taking care of her for the remaining years of her life. He paid for her to live in the best senior citizens’ facility that Augusta had to offer. There she received around-the-clock care, and anything she wanted or desired was at her fingertips, and if not, he provided it.

  My phone buzzing on the kitchen counter stole me away from the memory of the tender moments we shared. I read the text from Seth.

  I miss you already.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  I jumped at the sound of Byran’s voice. Seth’s text had taken me from reality for a moment, and I did not hear the door open or close.

  “How was your day?” I said, hugging him, hoping to avoid answering his question.

  “It was good. I figured I would come home a little early so I could take you out for a nice dinner and, if you feel up to it, a movie,” he said, grabbing me around the waist.

  Was this a dream? I could not remember the last time we had gone out on a date. He was always so busy with church or one of the other businesses that I had quit expecting to have a date life. Besides that, we had been on such business terms as of late, the last thing I was expecting was for him to treat me like a . . . wife.

  “Wow. What did I do to deserve a date on a weeknight?”

  “I was sitting in my office today, praying about us, the situation we are in, and all the things I have put you through lately. I felt very bad about it and was able to appreciate you in a whole different way after putting some things in perspective. Allyson, you know this, but you deserve a whole lot more from a man. Yet you have sacrificed everything you want and desire to make me happy. I love you for that.”