The Pastor's Husband

by Tiffany L. Warren

“I can hear it in your voice. What’s up?”

  In a flurry of words I tell my best friend everything about Felicia and her pot of chicken soup that no one is eating.

  “So you say she’s been working with Greg?”

  “Apparently, on some grants for the youth center. But you know what’s crazy? Greg has never mentioned this woman to me. He told me about the grant. He even went as far as to say that the church was approved for the grant money, but he didn’t say anything about a chick with perfect hair and a perfect body working with him on it. Why would he keep her a secret?”

  “Wait. You should get his explanation first. Don’t just assume he was keeping secrets. Maybe he doesn’t think that you care about the day-to-day operations of the church while you’re out traveling.”

  “I can tell you one thing. We need to figure out how to consolidate the taping of these shows, because I need to be at home more.”

  “Maybe you should just quit doing the conference dates altogether for a while. Lady Sandy and company can find someone else to preach in your place.”

  I carefully consider this. I wonder what Lady Sandy would say if I said I didn’t want to do the conference dates anymore. They have become a big source of income for her Women’s Empowerment foundation, but it’s not like she can’t bring on one of her big-name friends to preach for me.

  “I think you’re right. I’m going to talk to Lady Sandy.”

  “And I wouldn’t worry about the chicken-soup-making bird. You and Greg are about to celebrate your fifteenth anniversary. Your marriage is stronger than that.”

  “Thank you for saying that, girl. I know it’s true, but I guess I just needed to hear someone else say it.”

  “Anytime.”

  I disconnect the call and place my phone on the ground next to me. I pull my knees up to my chest and try to believe what Tina said to me. Greg and I are solid. We may have a few chinks in our marriage armor, but for the most part, we got this, and I know it.

  So tell me why I’ve got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach about this one. I want to call the church mothers and ask them to put us on the prayer list. I think we could use just a few prayers of the righteous.

  CHAPTER 44

  FELICIA

  This is not how this was supposed to happen. Nya wasn’t supposed to be home when I brought Greg that soup. I wonder what made her show up all of a sudden. I bet it was Mother Olivia and her meddling old self. She just added herself to my list of people that I need to move out of my way to get my blessing.

  It’s Thursday, and finally Greg’s car is back at the church. It’s been several days since he’s been here. I guess that flu bug really did lay him out. I hate that he got sick, especially because it’s brought everything to a head now.

  I didn’t want to have to expedite my plan. I wanted Greg to desire me enough to put his marriage in jeopardy. And he was getting there too. Him spinning me around and nearly kissing me is proof of that.

  I scan the parking lot to make sure Nya isn’t anywhere on campus. For the past couple of days she’s been a fixture at the church offices, going in and out, carrying folders and envelopes and everything else. I don’t know what she’s up to, but she’s busy.

  I have to watch out for Mother Olivia too. She’s been making her presence known every day. She’s planning this anniversary banquet for Greg and Nya. It’s an event that I hoped to prevent from even taking place, but since it’s happening in a month, I probably don’t have time to stop it. But I can show up, looking fabulous, and stealing everyone’s shine – including Nya’s.

  Finally, when I think the coast is clear, I rush into the administrative building that houses Greg’s office. I’m about to knock on the door when Lena walks up. Darn. I didn’t need any interruptions.

  “Hey Lena, what’s going on, girl?” I ask.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t have an appointment with you on Pastor Greg’s calendar. How can I help you?”

  “Oh well, I didn’t have an appointment, but I just found another grant program that he might want me to show to Pastor Nya. He says she has some initiatives that she wants to work on.”

  The mention of Nya’s name seems to throw Lena off. Obviously someone—Mother Olivia, probably—has her thinking that I have bad intentions toward Greg. Why would a woman who wanted to be the pastor’s mistress be planning to work with the pastor’s wife?

  “I still don’t have an appointment for you,” Lena says. “Especially since you somehow told me the wrong time for that grant meeting.”

  Oh. That’s what she’s mad about. It has nothing to do with Mother Olivia at all. She’s angry that she got left out of that meeting.

  “Girl, you know that was not on purpose. I’m so sorry.”

  “Mm-hmm. You had Pastor Greg thanking you on Sunday during his sermon like you were the only one who worked on that grant proposal. I did a lot too.”

  This delay is actually starting to irritate me, but let me go ahead and humor this heffa so I can get her out of my way. “I promise that it won’t happen again. As a matter of fact, I was going to start teaching you how to actually write sections of the grant proposals. We’re going to have more work than we can handle pretty soon, and I will need someone like you to back me up.”

  “Really? I definitely want to learn how to write grants. That’s a skill I can use outside the church too. Look what it got you. You living like a baller out there in Southlake and everything. You need to hook your girl up.”

  “And I will. I just need to talk to Pastor Greg really quickly about this research I’ve done.”

  “Okay, girl. I was just messing with you. Go ahead and knock. He doesn’t have anyone in there right now.”

  “Good. Could you do me a favor, Lena?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can you make sure no one interrupts us for at least the next forty-five minutes? I need Pastor Greg’s undivided attention. There is a lot of money on the line here, and I want Love First to get a nice big chunk of it.”

  Lena nods emphatically. “Absolutely. I will let the saints know that Pastor Greg is busy and can’t be disturbed.”

  “Thank you.”

  I tap on Greg’s door and his booming voice comes through the wood. “Come in.”

  He smiles at me as I step inside his office. I’m dressed casually, but sexy enough to where Greg can admire my cures without necessarily lusting over them.

  “Sister Felicia. How are you? Did we have a meeting today? If we did, and I had an action item, please forgive me. I’m just getting back into the groove of things after being sick.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Pastor Greg. I think I’m the one who got you sick.”

  “I agree. You came in my office breathing germs all over the place. But since we got that grant money, I’m going to forgive you. I’m better now.”

  “Did my chicken soup help?”

  Greg looks confused. “Nya made me some of her chicken soup. You brought me some too?”

  “I did. Pastor Nya didn’t mention it, did she?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but I bet it’s in the freezer for another time we’re feeling sick. Thank you so much for thinking of us. I appreciate it.”

  I walk over to sit in the chair in front of Greg’s desk. When I sit, I watch his eyes rest on my cleavage, which is very visible in my low-cut blouse. At a distance, he probably didn’t notice, but with my boobs at eye level right now, he can’t help but gaze. He wouldn’t be a man if he didn’t.

  “So, Sister Felicia, is there something that we’re supposed to be meeting about today?”

  I breathe deeply before I begin. I take myself back to Atlanta five years ago. Transport my mind to the table where my perfectly healthy child was murdered by Lance and Dr. Tomlinson. I’ve not thought about these things in a few years. Every time it tries to press to the forefront of my memory, I push it back. But now I just let the memories bubble up and overflow.

  The tears flow easily, and Greg quickly
hands me a tissue.

  “What’s wrong, Sister Felicia? Please tell me.”

  “Pastor Greg, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I didn’t know how.”

  “It’s fine. You can tell me anything. Don’t be afraid.”

  I look up at him with tears streaming from my eyes. The concern on his face makes my heart swell with love for him.

  “I-I came to this church because of Pastor Nya.”

  “Oh? Well, why does that upset you so much?”

  “I’m the one who received that ‘suddenly blessing’ prophecy.”

  Greg nods slowly. “Really?”

  “Yes. And my life has been nothing but a nightmare ever since.”

  I tell Greg about everything that happened to me after his wife muscled her way into my life with her false prophecy. I don’t spare him any details.

  When I’m finished, Greg sits back in his chair and strokes his goatee. I don’t know how to read his demeanor, but I believe he’s processing my words.

  “You lost your baby.”

  “My baby was stolen from me.”

  Greg shakes his head and frowns. “You believe she gave you a false prophecy?”

  “I don’t know if she gives some people a good word, but I can promise you that nothing in my life happened that even remotely qualified as a blessing. And the things that happened suddenly were the most hurtful things that ever happened in my life.”

  “There’s something I don’t understand, though. If you think she gave you a false prophecy, and I’m not saying if she did or didn’t, why are you here? Why would you join our church? Sit under our ministry? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I’ve been getting up the nerve, for the past five years, to ask her why she would do that to me. Why she would choose me to give that lie to, because for the life of me, I don’t understand.”

  “Would you like for me to set up a meeting?”

  “No, Pastor Greg. I don’t think . . . when I brought you that soup, she was so mean to me. It was like . . . she thought I was trying to go after you or something.”

  Now Greg’s face crinkles into an angry frown. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Honestly, I thought she was going to throw the soup in my face. I was just so concerned about you, especially because I thought I gave you the flu in the first place . . .”

  “I can’t believe she treated you unkindly. That’s not like her.”

  “Pastor Greg. There’s more. She recognized me. I thought she wouldn’t because I’ve lost weight since the conference and my hair is different.”

  “How do you know she recognized you?”

  “She threatened me. She told me that if I tell anyone about her false prophecy that she would make sure I’d regret it.”

  “What? I’m calling her right now. That’s crazy.”

  “No, no, please don’t, Pastor Greg. Please keep this between us. I don’t want her to think I’m a threat. I mean, Pastor Nya has built her entire career on the lie she told me.”

  “All of that ‘suddenly’ stuff is made up. It’s a lie.”

  Greg says these words, but it’s as if he’s not even talking to me anymore. He’s left the room. Like he’s pondering the type of woman he’s married to. He should be pondering, wondering, and doubting. She’s a demon, if you ask me.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you this, but it’s killing me. I’ve been holding it inside for so long, and you’ve been so good to me. I-I just didn’t want you to find out some other way.”

  “No, thank you for coming to me. I’m your pastor. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything to Pastor Nya.”

  “Will you . . . will you pray for me?”

  Greg gets up and walks around his desk. He pulls me to my feet and puts a dab of anointed oil on my forehead from a little bottle on his desk.

  “Close your eyes. Bow your head,” he says.

  He takes my hands and squeezes. He says a prayer over me that had to move something in the heavens, because it definitely moved me.

  When he finishes, I look into his face with tears in my eyes. Real tears. Retelling that story brought up some genuine emotions.

  “Thank you, Pastor.”

  “You’re welcome. If my wife lied to you, she’s going to apologize. I don’t know if she’s to blame for the things that happened to you, but she definitely had you thinking you had a blessing on the way.”

  “I know it seems crazy that I’m here, but I . . . I guess I’m just looking for answers, that’s all.”

  “And I’m going to make sure you get them. And that you’re healed and whole.”

  “Thank you, Pastor.”

  Greg gives me a chaste hug and walks me to the door. I wondered how things would unfold if I told him about his lying wife. Part of me expected him to throw me out of his office. To tell me to get out and never come back.

  But he didn’t. Because Greg is man after God’s heart, and a lover of God loves God’s people. Me. I am a daughter of the King.

  I hope Greg realizes that his wife, the liar, isn’t anything like him. She isn’t a kingdom builder like we are. She’s working for the other side.

  CHAPTER 45

  NYA

  I have worn myself out doing a deep cleaning on my home. I actually am grateful for the break when I hear the doorbell ring. I was scrubbing soap scum out of my Jacuzzi tub, and my knees had just started to burn.

  When I open the front door and see Penelope standing there with tears in her eyes, I immediately invite her in.

  “I’m sorry to just show up like this,” she says. “Obviously you’re busy.”

  “Not too busy. I need to finish up anyway. We have Bible study tonight. Come on in the kitchen. I’ll fix us a cup of tea.”

  Penelope follows me into the kitchen and sits at the bar while I start with the tea.

  “What’s wrong, girl?” I ask.

  “My mother is tripping out,” she says. “She went crazy on me. She said you told her I faked a prophecy.”

  I close my eyes. I should’ve known that Lady Sandy was going to light into Penelope about that. She’s all about appearances. What people think means more to Lady Sandy than the truth.

  “I mean, you did fake it.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell you, Nya. I didn’t fake it. Everything I told you, I felt. It scared me when you said your vision was the opposite of what I saw. I wondered what it was that I experienced, if it wasn’t real.”

  I place a cup of tea in front of her and a few packages of sugar.

  “I think that you just want it so badly that you convinced yourself you got a prophetic word.”

  “It felt so real, though.”

  “Just like sometimes people feel so good in a church service and proclaim that they’re healed, but they’re really not. It’s almost like a form of self-hypnosis.”

  Penelope shakes her head and sighs. “You’re so right. About how badly I want this, I mean. I think it will finally make my parents proud of me. Imagine it! Me being able to command a room full of believers like you do. People flocking to a conference to hear a word from me. My mother will finally get off my back.”

  “You know, there was one time that you did something in defiance of Lady Sandy, that I thought was the beginning of a transformational ministry for you.”

  Penelope gives me a confused look and places her teacup on the counter. “When did I ever defy my mother?”

  “You don’t remember? You wrote your testimony down in our book. You were going to share your altar-call experience. Remember?”

  “Oh yes. And my mother shut that down real quick.”

  “I think we should’ve fought back. I think that was the first move you made in actually discovering your purpose.”

  “Maybe. But that moment is gone now. I missed that opportunity.”

  “Perhaps not. I have an idea that can help both of us get free of your mother’s clutches.”

  “You’re not in her clutches, Nya. You
can walk away from her anytime you want. You’ve got your church and your husband. At this point, you can start making deals without her if you want to do the other stuff too. She’s made herself the middleman, but she doesn’t own you like she owns me. I am hers. Literally.”

  Of course Penelope doesn’t know why I feel bound. She doesn’t know that one lie so many years ago has tethered me to this journey. Made me have to stick around to make sure it doesn’t spiral out of control. Yes, I have enjoyed the perks and the celebrity status and the money, but at the end of the day, I didn’t want that blessing prophecy to become even more twisted than the initial perversion. I’ve been doing five plus years of damage control.

  I’m ready for it to be over. And I know exactly how to end it with a bang.

  CHAPTER 46

  FELICIA

  I have to dress carefully for Bible study tonight. Very carefully. I choose a long, loose skirt that will billow out around me when I fall to the floor. I’ve pinned my long wig into a low bun at the nape of my neck. This is perfection, and exactly what I need.

  But the item I really need is wrapped carefully in tissue paper. When I saw it at a craft fair last weekend, I knew it was perfect.

  I unwrap the ornately decorated, expertly crafted ceramic box. It’s small, and can hold maybe three or four ounces of liquid. But that’s all I need for my demonstration.

  And after tonight, Greg will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I should be his partner. Tonight is going to change everything.

  CHAPTER 47

  NYA

  Tonight, Greg and I decide to ride together to Bible study. Usually we go separately. Most of the time he’s already at the church and I’m either traveling or coming from home. But tonight we were both at home.

  “Did you see Melody and her little girl at church on Sunday?” I ask Greg as he drives.

  He nods. “I did. Her daughter is getting so big. She told me she was taking classes at the community college.”

  “I am so proud of her. I’m glad we were able to get her out of that situation.”

  “Me too. You had a vision about her, didn’t you? That first day you saw her in church.”