The Bishop's Daughter

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The Bishop's Daughter Page 17

by Tiffany L. Warren


  I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “This is not what it looks like.”

  “Oh really? Well, it looks like you kicking it with your ex for the holiday. What part do I have wrong?”

  “I didn’t invite her down here. She came on her own. You’ve got to believe me.”

  Emoni takes a step closer and peers into my face. Then she sucks her teeth. “It would be a lot easier to believe you if you didn’t have that heifer’s lip gloss all over your face.”

  I exhale in frustration as Emoni storms down the hallway. I can’t explain my way out of this. There’s nothing I can say.

  “Emoni, don’t walk away like this. I think I’m falling in love with you.” I’m begging. Ain’t never begged a woman for nothing.

  She steps into the elevator with tears running down her face. “I want someone who knows he’s in love with me.”

  I watch the elevator close on the one relationship I ever really wanted.

  Defeated, I turn back to my apartment, and Shayna’s standing there with figurative smoke coming from her nose and ears.

  “You love her, Darrin?” she asks, her voice trembling with rage.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Shayna screams every curse in the book at me as she snatches her suitcase and marches out of my apartment. I don’t try to stop her.

  “Lose my number, Darrin.”

  “I’m not the one who keeps calling.”

  Shayna takes off a stiletto shoe and throws it at me. Her aim is on point, because I don’t have enough time to duck out of the way. Manolo Blahnik just busted me in my eye.

  Make that two women who are done with me.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Emoni

  I’m trying to hold back my tears, because I don’t want my family to know about me and Darrin. Mother scolded me for not inviting “my man” for Thanksgiving, so I had no other choice but to try and get him to come.

  After I rushed home from Darrin’s apartment, I calmed down. Then I thought maybe I’d been hasty. I wanted to hear his side of the story. I wanted to hear anything that would erase all of the pain he’s caused.

  And no, he did not have the audacity to say he thinks he’s falling in love with me. He must not have been thinking about that when he was playing tonsil hockey with Shayna. Standing in front of me trying to apologize with lip gloss on his neck. He’s got me twisted for real.

  Sister Ophelia and Kevin are joining us for Thanksgiving dinner, and she is already getting on my nerves. The worst part is that after Kevin and Sascha get married, they are going to be at all of our holidays.

  We’re sitting in the living room, drinking coffee and waiting for the caterer to finish our meal. My mother hires a caterer on every major holiday because the idea of standing on her feet in the kitchen over two hours terrifies her. I’m glad she gets a caterer; the last time she attempted to cook a turkey, it was raw in the middle.

  Ophelia says, “Diana, we haven’t got a lot of time to plan this wedding. I’ve been working on a few things.”

  She hands Mother a notebook that has magazine clippings taped on the pages. Mother flips through the notebook with her nose turned up, as if it smells like rotten garbage. Sascha sits next to Mother and snickers.

  “Sister Ophelia, I think me and my mom can handle planning the wedding. All you have to do is show up,” says Sascha as Mother hands the notebook back to Ophelia.

  “This is my grandson’s wedding, too. Y’all ain’t ’bout to block me out of everything.”

  Kevin interjects, “Grandma, I don’t really care about this stuff. Let them plan it.”

  “What do you mean, let them plan it?”

  Sascha replies for her man. “He means it’s not really a big deal who plans our big day. We’re happy regardless.”

  “Well, if it don’t matter who plans it, I’ll be happy to,” states Ophelia. She’s angrily smoothing her skirt, and her eyes dart from Mother to Sascha.

  Mother says, “Ophelia, for heaven’s sake, I’m not going to have my daughter be married in some country ceremony with spaghetti and fried chicken at her reception.”

  “You think she too good for my ideas? It ain’t like she a blushing virgin. Y’all ought to be going down to the courthouse. Who ever heard of a pregnant bride getting married in the church?”

  Sascha squirms in her seat, and Mother glares at Ophelia. This is pretty entertaining. It’s almost enough to take my mind off Darrin and his date, who will probably be doing who knows what after Dorcas’s party. She looked like she could pop, lock, and drop it and everything in between.

  Mother is about to respond when the doorbell rings. Sascha springs up to answer it. “I’ll get it!”

  Sascha comes back an instant later with Oscar in tow. I so don’t feel like dealing with him today. “I thought you were at Dorcas’s party,” I say in an irritated tone that I’m not trying to hide.

  He says, “I wanted to be here for you on the holiday.”

  “How sweet,” says Sister Ophelia sarcastically.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” I stand up and walk into the kitchen. Oscar follows me.

  “Are you all right?” he asks as he sits down next to me at the table.

  “Why does everybody keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

  “I saw you leaving Darrin’s apartment when I was on my way to Dorcas’s party. Did he do something to hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, Oscar, leave it alone. You should’ve stayed at Dorcas’s party.”

  So what if that is clearly a lie? Oscar doesn’t need to know all of my business. He already has too much information.

  “The way I see it, you can either sit around here sulking about Darrin, or you can marry me.”

  I almost vomit in my mouth. “No, thank you, Oscar.”

  “What’s so wrong with me? You act like I’m nothing.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. I just don’t look at you that way. You’re like a brother to me.”

  “Would your brother do this?”

  Oscar pounces, and I have no time to flee. He kisses me full on the mouth, tongue and all. My first thought is to push him off me, but after the first second, I’m not disgusted anymore. I close my eyes tight, imagine he’s Darrin, and kiss Oscar back.

  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar asks after we’re done.

  There is a real vulnerability to his tone, like he’s going to be devastated if I give the wrong answer. Truthfully, he’s not that bad. It’s just that I want to have a choice. I don’t want to think he’s all I can get.

  “It wasn’t bad, Oscar. It honestly wasn’t bad.”

  “So why don’t you give us a chance? It could work. All you have to do is fall in love with me, because I’m already in love with you.”

  I take a huge gulp. Why does he keep saying he loves me? Seriously? I don’t know how to respond to this. I wish he were Darrin professing his love. Why can’t Darrin be the sure thing? I’d much rather share my life with him than settle for Oscar and have not so bad kisses for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine having Oscar’s children or being married to him forever.

  Something in me wants Darrin. The guy who’s probably fornicating right now with his hot girlfriend from Cleveland. The something is that Darrin makes my heart beat fast, and he makes me nervous, silly, and giddy all at the same time.

  I love Darrin. There. I said it.

  So here’s the thing. Should I chase the guy I could totally fall in love with or settle for the guy who already loves me? Mother would tell me to choose Oscar. Daddy would, too.

  Something in Oscar’s manner or words has reached past everything I feel about Darrin and touched my heart. Oscar did love me as the ugly duckling, before Darrin was even a thought.

  Still, since I can’t respond to Oscar yet, I go to rejoin my family at dinner, with Oscar at my heels. As soon as I’m seated, Sascha frowns up at Oscar and says to me, “I thought Darrin was coming.”

  “He had a friend in from C
leveland, and he couldn’t make it,” I answer.

  Daddy replies, “Does he know how important the holidays are for this family?”

  I make another excuse for Darrin. “His friend dropped in unannounced. He didn’t want to impose.”

  “That’s funny. Dorcas told me he was coming to her party,” says Oscar. I give him the look of death.

  Mother asks, “Is that true, Emoni? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is right as rain.” Mother and Daddy both clear their throats at my obvious sarcasm. If they can pretend like everything is fine, so can I.

  “Actually, everything is not all right,” blurts Oscar.

  “Oscar—”

  “No, Emoni. Everyone needs to know what a miscreant Darrin is.”

  Daddy asks, “What are you talking about?”

  Oscar ignores my evil eye and continues, “His real girlfriend is here from Cleveland. That’s why he’s not here.”

  I could choke him. Even though Oscar’s telling the truth, he didn’t need to bring that up here. And judging by the shine of Sister Ophelia’s eyes, this is going to be a Freedom of Life headline.

  My brother, who has been quietly listening until now, asks me in a menacing tone, “Do you need me to go and see Darrin?”

  “No, Assistant Pastor Tyler. I do not.” Obviously, I need to remind him that assistant pastors don’t go and beat guys down for their big sisters.

  “I might be a pastor, but I’m still your brother.”

  This is getting out of control. I don’t think it could be any worse.

  And then Oscar says, “Darrin is not the man for you, Emoni.” He turns to Daddy and continues, “That’s why I’m here tonight, Bishop. To ask your permission to date Emoni.”

  “Don’t you need her permission?” asks Sascha with a laugh.

  Daddy glances at Ophelia and says, “Why don’t we discuss this later. In private.”

  Oscar takes my hand and smiles into my eyes. I don’t let go immediately, but I do avert my eyes. I’m not ready to accept this yet. I think about Darrin and his girlfriend and let out a heavy sigh. Why shouldn’t I let Oscar love me? I won’t have to chase him or compete with any other women for him. Even if he doesn’t make me swoon like Darrin does, I know he will be good to me. And Oscar loves my family—he would never, ever think of doing something to destroy Daddy’s ministry.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Darrin

  I must be a glutton for punishment. It’s the Monday after Thanksgiving, and I’m sitting in Bishop Prentiss’s office, getting ready to tell him the truth about myself. I seem to have been stricken with some type of honesty virus that can’t be cured.

  “Son, what can I help you with?” Bishop asks. “Is this about your trouble with Emoni?”

  “Well … Emoni and I aren’t on speaking terms right now, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Bishop … I need to tell you my true reason for being in Atlanta.”

  Bishop frowns. “Your true reason? You’re not here to pursue your writing career?”

  “Yes, but you were supposed to be my breakthrough story.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I saw you on television one morning, and I was sure you were a money-hungry fraud and sleeping with half the women in your church.”

  Bishop nods slowly. “I see.”

  “I never expected to get saved or admire you so much.”

  “And my daughter?”

  I drop my head. “At first I thought that being friends with her would help my story. But the more I got to know Emoni, the more I realized I couldn’t hurt her.”

  “So you lied.”

  “Yes, Bishop. I lied, but I’m asking you to forgive me.”

  “Have you written your story yet?”

  “I don’t plan to write it, sir.”

  Bishop says, “When you came down for your baptism, the Lord spoke to me. Do you want to know what He said?”

  “Be careful?” I ask with an almost chuckle.

  “No. The Lord said He’d sent you to Freedom of Life.”

  “Dorcas thinks I’m doing the work of the devil.”

  “I know what I heard in my spirit. I’m just wondering what the end of this thing is gonna be.”

  “Maybe it has something to do with this.” I hand Bishop Prentiss the envelope with the DNA test results on Kumal Jr.

  “What is this?”

  “Emoni and I gathered DNA from you and Kumal Jr. without your knowledge, and we sent away for a DNA test. I was going to give her the results, but I’m giving them to you.”

  Bishop Prentiss turns the envelope over in his hands several times. “Have you looked at this?”

  “No, I haven’t. It’s not my business.”

  “I already know what the results say.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ve known that Kumal Jr. was mine ever since I first laid eyes on him. When he was three years old.”

  “Then why …”

  “Because he doesn’t know me as his father. I couldn’t claim a crack addict’s baby and build a successful ministry. When Genevieve shared their whereabouts, the boy never wanted for anything.”

  “Except his father,” I remark sadly.

  “Except his father. You’re right.”

  “I hope I’m not being out of line, Bishop, but I think your son should be more important than building a ministry.”

  “I agree. But now it is too late for me to be in this young man’s life. He’s already grown.”

  This whole conversation is making me think of my own father. Mathis has always been in my life, even if he doesn’t agree with most of my choices. Never really thought about what it would’ve been like growing up without him.

  “Grown men need their fathers, too.”

  Bishop nods. “Well, Darrin, if my forgiveness means anything to you, you have it. Right now I’m not in any position to condemn anyone for telling a lie.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I can’t speak for my daughter, though.”

  “I don’t want you to. This meeting isn’t about Emoni.”

  I stand up from my seat and hold my hand out to Bishop. Bishop holds his arms out.

  “Son, be blessed and thank you,” says Bishop as he embraces me.

  “For what?”

  “For not telling the world about my secret.”

  “Oh. You’re welcome, sir.”

  I leave the office feeling confused and dejected. How can Bishop be such a mentor and spiritual father to men like me and Oscar and not be concerned about his own flesh and blood?

  And here is Oscar marching down the hall. I’m so not in the mood to be accosted by him. “Hello, Oscar.”

  He says nothing and keeps walking. I know how to take a hint. Didn’t want to have that fake conversation anyway. When I’m almost out of earshot, Oscar says in a loud and angry voice, “Why don’t you go back to Cleveland?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He rushes over and stands nose to nose with me. “I said, why don’t you go back to Cleveland? Why are you still here messing up everyone’s life?”

  “Man, whatever.” I turn to walk away. I’m not about to entertain this.

  “You messed over Dorcas, then Emoni, and now you’re trying to ruin Bishop.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to ruin Bishop.”

  “Emoni told me about the DNA test.”

  I wonder if she told him about the story. “Is that all she said?”

  “Isn’t that enough? Why don’t you leave us all alone? Go home to your little slut in Cleveland.”

  I feel my blood start to boil and my hand ball into a fist. But I’m not going to do this, not here. I throw my hand up and dismiss Oscar. “Dude, go on ’head with that.” I leave Oscar standing there scowling and head to my truck in the parking lot. Dorcas is on her way into the church. What do you know? The gang’s all here.

  “Hi, Darrin.�
��

  “What’s going on, Dorcas?”

  “You all right? You’re all red in the face.”

  I take a deep breath. “I’m cool.”

  “Have you heard the latest?”

  I laugh. “I don’t think I’m in anyone’s circle right now. The latest about what?”

  “Emoni and Oscar are dating.”

  I’m blinking and shaking my head. “What?”

  “Yes. Ophelia says he asked Bishop’s permission on Thanksgiving.”

  So Emoni gets mad at me and up and says yes to that fool. No wonder he wants me to go back to Cleveland.

  “Well, I hope they’re happy.”

  “Me, too,” says Dorcas.

  I need to end this conversation so I can go somewhere and think or sulk. Mostly sulk. “I’ll see you around, Dorcas.”

  “That sounds like a goodbye.”

  I smile and wave. Maybe it is goodbye. I don’t know. I can’t think beyond this moment. I finally find a woman I want to treat the right way, and I mess that up.

  Maybe Oscar is right. If I go back to Cleveland, everything will be cool. Emoni will end up marrying Oscar, Dorcas will find a man to make her happy, and no one will ever know about Bishop’s secret.

  I get in my truck and grasp the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. When I feel myself crying, I know this situation is beyond my expertise. I start praying. Don’t know how to do it like the professional church warriors—I can only say what’s in my heart: God, I don’t know if you sent me here. I just know that I’ve been trying to do the right thing, and it’s all turning out wrong. Will you show me what to do? Lead me and guide me, because I seem to be making a mess of my life. Thank you, in Jesus’ name.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Emoni

  Mother and Daddy have invited Oscar for lunch, so we can talk about his foolish outburst on Thanksgiving. Sister Ophelia has done her job informing everyone, because I got several congratulations from the church mothers on Sunday.

  “Bishop, you don’t know how honored I am to have your blessing.”

  “You only have my blessing if this is something that Emoni wants.”

  Everyone looks at me, and I shrug. “I haven’t decided one way or the other.”

  Bishop says, “If you ladies will excuse us, I’d like to have a talk with Oscar alone.”

 

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