The Pastor's Husband

by Tiffany L. Warren

  Greg shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m her pastor, Nya. Or have you been gone so long that you forget what pastors do? We have a whole congregation here. They need our prayers, and they’re standing in the gap for us when we need prayer. But I guess you haven’t been thinking about that because you’re a celebrity based on a fraudulent word.”

  I stare at Greg. Blink a few times and wonder how much time he’s actually spent with his alabaster-box woman. How many times has he stood in the gap for her?

  I was wrong for lying on God to her. Dead wrong. But she’s obviously insane if she thought God would bless her with someone else’s husband. And since she’s insane, she’s capable of anything. It’s time to stop her in her tracks, before she does even more damage to my home, to my ministry, and to my marriage.

  CHAPTER 49

  NYA

  I’ve invited Felicia to meet me under the guise of completing another grant proposal for the church. She quickly accepted my request. Almost too quickly. Maybe because the request looked like it came from Greg.

  I’m sitting in Greg’s office at the church, waiting for her. I notice a vase of nearly dead flowers on his desk and remember my vision where he enjoyed the scent of roses. I guess I assumed that the flowers in my vision had come from me, but I didn’t send these.

  I walk over to the vase and remove the card from the bouquet. It says, “Congratulations, Greg! We make a great team. Kingdom business Felicia.”

  She wrote “Greg” on her card. Not Pastor Hampstead, Pastor Greg, or simply Pastor. This note is too familiar and intimate. This heffa is beyond out of order, and so is Greg’s needy self for allowing it to go this far.

  There’s a knock on Greg’s office door.

  “Come in,” I say.

  The door swings open and Lena shows Felicia inside. Felicia wears a shocked expression on her face to go along with her shockingly tight white dress. She looks like she’s on her way to an after-five event. Not a meeting with her pastor.

  “I’m sorry,” Felicia says. “I was supposed to be meeting with Pastor Greg.”

  I give Lena a hand wave to dismiss her. “Actually, I called the meeting, Felicia. Have a seat.”

  “You called a meeting with me? Why?”

  I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to say to her. I guess I just hoped she’d get here and God would give me a vision or show me what to do.

  “You don’t really think I would allow you to meet privately with my husband after last night, do you?”

  She stares at me. Narrows her eyes, like she’s sizing me up. I lean forward in my chair and square my shoulders up. Assertive moves. She needs to dial back a bit with her aggression.

  “You wanted to meet about a grant proposal?” Felicia asks. Her facial expression indicates irritation, as if she has the right to an answer. She’s the one sending my husband flowers. If anyone should look irritated, it’s me.

  “No. I want to know what your plans are for my husband.”

  Her mouth opens slightly as if she’s going to respond, and then her lips curve into a smile. Not the reaction I was looking for.

  “Pastor Greg is an incredible man of God who has poured so much into my life. I feel grateful for him. When I joined this church I was at the lowest point of my life. His ministry helped turn me around.”

  His ministry? Interesting.

  “Are you from Dallas, Sister Felicia? What made you join our church out of all the churches in Dallas? What brought you to Love First?”

  Her smile gets wider, almost maniacal. This girl either has mental problems or is possessed of a demon. I can’t determine which.

  “God brought me here,” she says. “He ordered my steps.”

  I was hoping that she’d tell the truth. That she’d admit to being at Lady Sandy’s Women’s Empowerment session.

  “Where did you serve before you came here?”

  “I lived in Georgia, actually. I wasn’t at any one church. I’m ashamed to say I did a bit of church hopping. Luckily, I got rooted and grounded when I arrived in Dallas.”

  “Why do you think God sent you here?”

  She looks surprised by the question. Like she didn’t expect me to ask it.

  “I think God sent me here because my talents were needed by this church. He sent me here for kingdom business.”

  I point at the dying flowers. “That’s what you said on the card. On the roses you sent to my husband.”

  Now Felicia’s shocked expression seems full of worry. Her forehead creases as her eyebrows rise.

  “Those were to congratulate him on getting the grant, Evangelist Hampstead. We worked really hard on that, and Pastor Greg impressed the grant makers. It wouldn’t have happened if not for his charisma.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What? Do you not like the flowers?” Felicia asks.

  “I love flowers. Some might find a single woman sending a married man roses inappropriate. But then I’m assuming that you’re single. Are you?”

  “I am, but I’m waiting for God to suddenly bless me with a covenant partner.”

  So she knows that I know, or at least hopes that I know. I’m not going to give her the pleasure.

  “That’s what God does sometimes. You could just be living your life and He’ll just pop up out of nowhere with a blessing. Just like he sent you out of nowhere to bless our church with your talent.”

  “He did. Isn’t God awesome?”

  “Yes, and my husband speaks highly of you.”

  “He does?”

  The excitement in her tone when she says this makes me want to jump up and choke her. Girlfriend better recognize. I may be an evangelist, but I can and will set it off if necessary.

  “Yes. I’m going to be working on some grants for homeless teenagers in Dallas, and would like your help.”

  “Is this a Suddenly Nya initiative? Is this a part of your television show?”

  “No. It’s a Love First International initiative. Something Greg and I have been passionate about for years.”

  “Oh. He didn’t mention it to me,” Felicia says as she lifts one hand and glances at her manicured nails.

  “And he probably wouldn’t. He’s not in the habit of talking about his hopes and dreams with our members. I’m sure you understand that. It wouldn’t be—”

  “Appropriate,” Felicia says, finishing my sentence for me.

  Felicia looks at her watch as if she’s suddenly bored with the conversation. Then she reaches in her purse and hands me a card.

  “E-mail me when you’re ready to work on your grant proposal, Evangelist Nya. I want to respect your time, and let you go. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss today?”

  There’s a lot I would like to discuss, but maybe not today. As much as I want to go in on this heffa like she’s any normal home-wrecking husband stealer, I don’t. Somehow I wounded her with that prophecy. She wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.

  I need God’s help on this one. I don’t know how, but I have to right this wrong.

  CHAPTER 50

  FELICIA

  I look at the rectangular piece of paper in my hand. I ball it up and then I immediately change my mind. I smooth out the paper and place it on my bed. I stare at the words. FIFTEENTH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY GALA FOR PASTORS GREG AND NYA HAMPSTEAD.

  I bought the ticket before Nya came home. Before she stepped back up into the church, ruining my plans and interrupting my seduction of Greg. I’m kicking myself for not moving faster, for thinking that I had all the time in the world, for acting like Nya would never come home.

  Greg was touched when I brought my box of oil to the church. Of course the oil was symbolic. I was pouring all my gratitude out at his feet. He’s the one who has made me feel loved. He’s been the one to show compassion to me. Not his lying wife.

  And that Mother Olivia. I ball my fists up and pound against my chest, thinking of her. She embarrassed me by covering me with that sheet. She even covered my head, like she was a magician tryi
ng to make me disappear. I owe her. I don’t care if she is older than dirt, I am getting her back for that.

  After church a few women came up to me and asked to pray for me. I didn’t want nor do I need their prayers, but I let them do it anyway.

  What I really wanted to do was to go find Greg and fall into his arms. I knew I’d feel better if I could have him pray for me.

  Their anniversary gala is tonight, and I am ready. Although, I was hoping that after Bible study, they’d be on such poor terms that they’d cancel the whole thing.

  But then Nya summoned me. Called me to Greg’s office like she’s the one with the upper hand. Sitting there asking me about my life, when she knows that she’s the one who lied to me and destroyed it.

  Or maybe Nya doesn’t know who I am. I don’t put it past Greg to keep my secrets, and she’s too narcissistic to even remember the people she’s lied to. These days she probably just flies through the sanctuary knocking people out in the spirit. This is more confirmation that she is straight-up fraudulent. A real prophetess would know who I am, and what I came to do.

  I hold up my dress. Some people might look at it and think it’s a wedding dress, but to me it’s just a gorgeous, white lace gown. It’s symbolic of the pure relationship that Greg and I have. The covenant bond.

  He told the ministers to bring me to him. I will never forget that. Nya tried to stop me, and I called her a liar right to her face. Then Greg made them bring me forward. Like they were giving away the bride.

  The next day, I went and got this dress to wear to the anniversary party.

  I’m sure the church members are preparing right now to celebrate their pastors on fifteen years of marriage. They will also be able to bear witness to the new order, ’cause I’m gonna usher it in right before everyone’s eyes.

  I have bathed for three days with ginger, frankincense, and myrrh. I want to be ready for Greg. This is our coming-out party.

  I apply my makeup meticulously. Primer, then foundation, little dabs of concealer to hide the tiny blemishes, and more foundation to cover it all. Carefully pencil in my eyebrows, add a thin layer of golden eyeshadow. I want to glimmer and glisten like a bronze statue. My nude lip gloss completes my understated and classy look. I look perfect.

  I pull on my dress. It fits perfectly, hugging where it should, and flowing where appropriate. My white, jewel-encrusted pumps are fairy tale – like. Definitely appropriate for me to stake a claim on my blessing.

  My look is complete. Wait. It’s almost complete.

  My bed is covered with copies of my child’s first ultrasound. The one I had before Dr. Tomlinson and Lance became accessories to his murder. Actually, I don’t know if my baby was a boy or a girl, but since Lance kept calling him his son, I’ll go with that.

  I fold one of the ultrasound photos and slide it inside my bra. Then I take several more and pin them right underneath the hem of my dress. I roll yet another copy into a tiny scroll and slide it into the corsage on my wrist.

  My baby was sacrificed for this. It’s only fitting that he be present when it all comes together.

  My cell phone chimes with a text message. I smile as I read it. My limo has arrived to take me to the party, and to my blessing.

  CHAPTER 51

  NYA

  All day today, I’ve been in high stress mode. I can’t concentrate on anything. Dropped coffee in my lap at breakfast and broke a nail. My entire spirit is on high alert. I am vexed and nervous and can’t stop fidgeting.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and look at the dresses Tina has selected for me to wear to our anniversary party tonight. Honestly, I’m having a hard time getting into a party mood, so I can’t decide.

  “Greg, can you come in here?” I call into the bathroom.

  I hear Greg’s electric razor stop and he walks into the center of our bedroom wearing only a towel. Seeing him there, glistening and with muscles bulging, makes me want to forget being Pastor Nya today. I’d rather skip this party and go off to the beach somewhere to enjoy my husband.

  Things have been strained since he found out about my fake prophecy. I feel like he’s lost some respect for me. For the gift. Maybe he believed in it more than I did.

  “Can you help me choose one of these dresses?” I ask. “I can go with the turquoise because that was our wedding color. Or I can do the white one. It’s kind of symbolic, I think. Like a renewal.”

  Greg strokes his goatee and presses his lips together. I wonder if he’s only pondering the dress or if there’s something else going through his mind.

  “Go with the white,” he says finally. “And it is symbolic. Of what happens after we get washed by the blood of Jesus.”

  “Funny.”

  “I’m not joking. I hope you repented for your lie.”

  I close my eyes, hating the way his voice sounds. Hating what his words mean. “I did. That same night. I have begged God for forgiveness.”

  “Well, He’s already done with that matter, I suppose. I guess it’s just taking me a little bit longer.”

  “Why, Greg? Why is it taking you so long to forgive me for this?”

  “Nya. I love you with all my heart. But this is crazy. You know how I feel about the people of God. I am questioning how I can even serve in ministry with you anymore. You do realize we built all of this from your lie. How am I supposed to thank and praise God for this when I know how it came about?”

  I blink back tears. “I know, Greg. You don’t think this has haunted me over the years? I’ve always wondered when the other shoe would drop. When someone would find out. What would Lady Sandy do if she knew? How would I be received? It’s been torture.”

  “Torture.” Greg says the word, then chuckles. “Getting television shows, touring the country and writing books has been torture? You would’ve made a horrible apostle.”

  “Please, Greg, don’t pile it on. I feel an incredible amount of guilt behind what happened to Felicia.”

  “I’m sure your guilt doesn’t equal her pain.”

  It bothers me hearing Greg defend Felicia. I definitely did her wrong—I would never argue that, but there is something not right about that woman.

  “Thanks, Greg. I’ll wear the white dress.”

  We get dressed for the party in silence. Several times I want to call Mother Olivia and give everyone our regrets for not attending. I want to stay home. Crawl in a corner somewhere and have a long, ugly cry.

  When we’re downstairs in our living room, waiting for the driver to arrive, Greg walks up to me and touches my face. It feels like a tender gesture, which I need right now.

  “Babe, this is our wedding anniversary party,” he says. “We’re celebrating our marriage tonight. Not Suddenly Blessed, not our ministry, not our church. We’re gonna do some line dances with our friends, just like we did at our wedding.”

  He kisses my forehead and I feel relieved. I know he loves me, but today I needed a reminder.

  “I am furious and disappointed about what you did, but you’re still my wife. I love you. You’re my boo.”

  This makes me laugh. “You’re my boo too.”

  “Good. So stop looking all sad. There’s a limo waiting for us outside. Let’s go enjoy our night.”

  The smile on my face is genuine, and fifteen years of marriage is a lot to celebrate. I take Greg’s extended arm and allow him to lead me into our awaiting chariot. Tonight, I will not think about “suddenly” anything. Tonight, I will have fun and enjoy my husband.

  CHAPTER 52

  FELICIA

  Accomplishing my plan tonight will not be easy. After my alabaster box presentation, Mother Olivia has had her one good eye on me every time I walk into the church. I need an ally. Someone who loves Pastor Greg but isn’t one hundred percent sold on Nya.

  I tap Lena on the shoulder when I see her in the foyer of the hotel ballroom. She turns to face me, but she doesn’t smile.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she says.

  “I bought a ti
cket, didn’t I? Why wouldn’t I come and celebrate my pastors?”

  Lena glances to her left and right and over her shoulder. I guess the coast is clear because she pulls me into one of the hotel’s small conference rooms.

  “What was that you did at Bible study, girl? The whole church thinks you’re trying to sleep with Pastor Greg.”

  “I would never try that. I was honoring the man of God.”

  “Wait, why are you wearing a wedding dress?”

  I look down at my dress and shake my head. “This isn’t a wedding dress. It’s a white formal gown.”

  “It looks like a wedding dress to me,” Lena says. Then she twists her lips to one side and lifts her eyebrow.

  Shoot. I have to get her on my side.

  “Pastor Greg is the only one who knows my story. He has ministered to my very spirit, Lena. I honor that man on everything.”

  “What story?”

  Telling Lena can’t hurt at this point. Soon everyone is going to know how much of a liar Nya is, and it will all make sense.

  “Remember the Women’s Empowerment conference that made Pastor Nya famous?”

  “Yes. We talked about this before. I was there.”

  “I am the woman who was supposed to be suddenly blessed.”

  Lena’s jaw slackens as she tilts her head to one side. “That was you? Well, God surely did bless you, ’cause you looked a hot mess.”

  “He’s blessing me now, but not because of Nya’s prophecy. After she told me that lie, I lost everything, including my ability to have children. She is a liar.”

  “I mean . . . I was there, Felicia. She didn’t really say anything specific in that message. What did you do afterwards?”

  I tell her about Lance, about the baby, about the murder, and about my infection that destroyed my reproductive organs.

  “Damn.” Lena says this one word in response to it all. And what else could someone say?

  “When I told Pastor Greg about this, he was so compassionate with me. He told me that Nya would be held responsible for destroying my life.”

  “Okay, but you chose to sleep with that married man. You can’t have thought that was a God move.”