Full Figured 11

by Treasure Hernandez

  Every woman in America fantasizes about what it would be like to be with my husband, and in an hour, I’m going to get that experience again.

  Motivated, Janiyah suffered through the increasing temperature. The fan only seemed to push the hot air around and make the studio feel like she was working in a sweathouse, but she remained professional. The end results, collecting a check and contributing to the household, were worth the minor pain and suffering.

  Gun flashed his award-winning smile. His teeth shone as if he were doing ads for a teeth-whitening commercial. His cinnamon-colored skin shone, and his softer cheekbones, clean-shaven face, and round facial features gave him a baby face.

  Gun’s non-verbal actions gave consent to participate in the photo shoot, and for that, Janiyah was grateful. While Cable continued to take pictures, Janiyah watched as Gun headed to the dressing room. In her eyes, Gun was perfect. He didn’t need to straighten his green-and-blue silk tie, which was in the perfect Windsor knot. She loved the way his sea green button-up shirt and black three-button suit draped across his tall frame. In another life, Gun could’ve been a model for GQ or Complex.

  “Okay, Rev, you’re in.” Cable was very informal with Gun.

  Janiyah saw the look in Gun’s eyes. The way his eyes scrunched closed and his lip twisted up quickly let her know that he was pissed. Gun hated being addressed as Rev, and preferred to be called Gun when he was away from church. Gun once told her that being called Rev was the church equivalent to being called Duffle Bag Boy, Junebug, or whatever ghetto name he wanted to leave behind in the hood.

  Gun got behind his wife and wrapped his arms around Janiyah’s curvaceous body. She could feel him take a deep breath. She knew he loved the smell of the lotion and couldn’t wait for the opportunity to get closer to the scent intimately.

  “Um, Pastor, I need y’all to loosen up and have fun,” Cable suggested as he walked up to the couple. He reached into Gun’s personal space and started undoing the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt. “Unbutton that suit jacket and take it off—and loosen the tie.” This was another reason Janiyah thought he was unprofessional. On a bigger budget shoot, there would have been a person in charge of wardrobe who would have handled anything to do with the clothes. Wardrobe people are very particular about how buttons are undone, sleeves are rolled, and jacket lapels placed. Seeing Cable start messing with clothes was low budget in Janiyah’s eyes.

  Janiyah was shocked to see her husband follow the photographer’s directions. Loosen up? The request was the complete opposite of the demeanor Gun Wade was known for. Janiyah was grateful that her husband wasn’t the same man he was over a year ago. Cable had no idea who he was talking to. If he had known that Gun used to be a big-time drug kingpin that wouldn’t hesitate to pistol whip someone for disrespecting him, he’d be handling this photo shoot with a lot more care and respect. The old Gun Wade was dead and gone now, though. Gun had received his revelation from God, turned his life around, and was happy where he was. It would take a lot more than a rude photographer to get him to break.

  Gun took his new role as a church leader and minister of the Word seriously, and he made sure that his dress reflected his outlook on life. Gun wasn’t so uptight that he couldn’t wear the popular brands sported by today’s athletes and artists, but he understood that image was everything, and as a man of God, he felt his dress should reflect his walk.

  “Yeah, man.” Cable flashed his ugly yellow teeth.

  Janiyah shook her head. For as much money as the magazine was paying this man, she couldn’t believe Cable couldn’t get his dental needs taken care of. But that was none of Janiyah’s business, and she felt a pang of guilt for judging the man. She’d only just met Cable, and Janiyah knew the publication was giving him a chance, as they were also giving her one. There weren’t many black photographers who shot for well-known publications, and Janiyah had always felt that everyone deserved a break. Who knew? Maybe Cable had some gems in his collection of random thoughts and picture-taking. Only time would tell. She’d have to give him a chance.

  The camera continued to flash, and the wind continued to blow, as Cable directed Janiyah and Gun through a few poses. Some were even slightly suggestive. Janiyah didn’t mind the world knowing that she and Gun were in love or that they promoted a healthy, intimate relationship to their congregation. It was her opinion that more couples, even those who led a flock, should be in tune with one another.

  When the shoot was over, the fan was turned off, and Janiyah stepped out of her stilettos. Thankfully, they hadn’t buckled or sunk. She looked for an available chair to sit down and rub her feet. A foot soak complete with jet-stream bubbles with a strong lavender scent would have soothed her nerves and her spirit. Janiyah could’ve used a nap, but there was no place for her to sneak away to. The studio definitely wasn’t as nice as what she was accustomed to. There were no fresh fruit trays or vegan-friendly spreads that most models nibbled on for nourishment, no purified water imported from Italy or France, not even a can of La Croix sparkling water. Janiyah couldn’t believe the magazine had been so cheap. Then, when she thought about Cable and the old warehouse they were in and the portable equipment Cable had to bring with him to make his setup work, she wasn’t surprised. She knew it was just something she had to endure in order to build her career back up.

  “Baby, how do you think I did?” Gun asked nervously.

  Janiyah found this question cute because Gun usually wasn’t the vain type. He only cared about his looks when he was preaching the Word to the youth during Sunday service. Other than that, a torn-up shirt, some jersey shorts, and some athletic slides suited him fine.

  “You were sexy to me.” Janiyah kissed him on the cheek. “Besides, I don’t think the magazine is going to use any of the pictures we took for this spread. I doubt anyone will see them.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Janiyah saw the door open to the only room available for changing. Her biggest rival in the plus-size model market, Brianna Clarise, rushed out of the room. In the back of her mind, Janiyah wondered if Brianna had been in the room when her husband was getting himself together. Janiyah watched as the diva struggled to keep her blouse buttoned, and the enhancements Brianna had flown all the way to Peru to get done cheaply fought with the fabric to stay in place.

  Brianna saw Janiyah looking at her as she exited the room. “The room is yours, honey,” she said. “Please leave my purse on the counter and don’t touch nothing!”

  “I don’t need—” Janiyah started to entertain her but felt Gun quickly escorting her five-foot-seven, two-hundred-pound frame to the room. This elevated Janiyah’s temper a bit, as she felt stung by the insult. The implication that she would need or want anything that belonged to Brianna was offensive.

  “Gun, slow down,” Janiyah snapped.

  “Oh, no.” Gun continued his pace, and as he and Janiyah crossed the threshold of the door, he promptly shut it. “I didn’t forget the black eye I got from the last time the two of you had an altercation. Never again.”

  Janiyah thought for a quick second and guilt overshadowed her. She was the one who had accidentally punched her husband, instead of that no-good, man-stealing hussy. In fact, her last altercation with Brianna had started because she made an inappropriate comment about Gun being a prude in the bedroom. Even if though it couldn’t be further from the truth, she didn’t want Brianna spreading rumors about them.

  “Okay, baby.” Janiyah exhaled as she took a step up to sit on her throne. The leather plush swivel stool moved as Janiyah maneuvered to get comfortable. “I hate when they put me and her in the same photo shoot. Folks should know by now we can’t stand one another.”

  Janiyah tilted her head to the left to remove the huge silver, disco ball–shaped earrings. She couldn’t wait to take them out. They were so heavy they were pulling on her earlobes and making them sore, and she thought they made her face look more round. As she did the same to her right side, she felt a weight being lifted off her s
houlders, literally. She exhaled as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was surprised her makeup had held up despite feeling like it was going to drip from her face.

  “That’s not the way a youth pastor and his lady should handle things,” Gun said as he lowered his body to massage Janiyah’s feet.

  Instead of arguing, Janiyah said nothing as Gun elevated her leg and continued to knead her foot as if it were dough. Soon, Janiyah forgot everything as Gun turned up the heat, making the dressing room their own personal bedroom. It seemed as if Gun had taken the photographer’s advice and loosened up a bit.

  Gun stood up and walked to the door to make sure it was locked. Once he felt secure about them being safe and alone in the room, Gun put a finger to his lips, encouraging her to remain quiet. Next, he unbuckled his belt, and Janiyah smiled as Gun’s pants hit the floor. She was equally surprised that he not only stepped out of the pants, but that she had easy access to everything in front of her.

  It wasn’t easy, but she stayed silent as a clam as Gun began to work his magic on her insides.

  Chapter Ten

  “I wear the best eye shadow, lip-liner, and foundation that money can buy,” Janiyah preached before a group of about two hundred youth. Janiyah was at a speaking engagement talking about fame and success in the church’s school auditorium. The church was located in in Greensboro, and aside from the building temple, they also ran a private Christian school. Gun worked there on a full-time basis as the youth pastor and counselor for the students. She looked back at Gun, who nodded his head and subtly nudged her to continue. “I wear expensive perfumes, nice clothes, and y’all know I can keep my hair tight whether I’m all-natural or if my hair is dyed or fried.”

  Janiyah spun her hair in a circular motion. The windmill effect brought a slight breeze to her face and thunderous laughter from the crowds. Sistas were standing up and giving her encouragement, and she knew that a few guys were intrigued too.

  “I get paid to look beautiful.” Janiyah took a sip from her water bottle and placed it on the podium. She snatched the microphone from the stand and began walking down the middle aisle. “My day job is to sell beauty—I get that makes some of you uncomfortable. But I always keep in mind that Peter, chapter three, verses three and four say, ‘Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear—but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.’”

  A chorus of amen followed.

  “I sell an image. That’s why some of you are here.” A few of the girls in the school were laughing, but before she could let them get far, Janiyah continued. “And I am not ashamed, because I know that He has made everything beautiful in its time. The difference between my image and the more popular image that you see on television is that while I sell physical beauty, I speak and promote about maintaining a positive spiritual image. When I meet little girls—especially young, thick girls like myself—I encourage them to move forward with their plans.

  “Lose the weight so that you can live in good health and continue the mission that God put in your lives. Don’t starve yourself so that you can fit into a bathing suit and capture a man’s attention. Now, I’m not going to lie; I can make a two-piece or one-piece look good.”

  Janiyah was on a roll as she saw the young ladies’ eyes on her. She looked up at the sound booth and was thankful that the members running the visuals were keeping up with the message she wanted to send. They emphasized the passages and, most importantly, showed pictures that highlighted different points of her message. They had been kind enough to give her a topic to speak on, and Janiyah and Gun had spent the night perfecting the speech in between lovemaking sessions.

  “But the important thing is that I’m not vain. I don’t sell hurtfulness. I don’t need to put another model down so I can make a dollar.” Janiyah almost choked as her spirit convicted her. She knew that her rivalry with Brianna was the one dirty spot in her otherwise polished career. It was not that she didn’t try to get along with Brianna. Janiyah had hoped that two plus-sized models who professed to worship Jesus Christ could get along. She had extended an olive branch more than one time, but after being shunned, dissed, and outright blackballed from certain photo shoots because of the increasingly bitter competition, Janiyah had learned to love every plus-size model except Brianna.

  “I love that when young girls see me, it’s with my clothes on. I’m not twerking to some hard-thumping, pulsating beat. Girls don’t see me gyrating in front of some fully-clothed man who’s waving dollars and rubbing his hands over my chest.”

  “Wait a minute, Janiyah.”

  A sharp voice stopped Janiyah in her tracks. She looked around and couldn’t find where it had come from. Gun had stood up, and the teachers were walking around too, trying to figure out who had the audacity to interrupt her in the middle of her speech.

  “Who said that?” Janiyah asked. After ministering the Word for a few months, Janiyah had mastered the art of comforting babies, engaging children, and educating adults while letting the Lord use her as a vessel.

  “I said it.” A voice was clear and came from the sound booth. It sounded like her ex-boyfriend, Rodji. She hadn’t seen or heard from the man in almost seven years, right after he left her near some farm in Waynesville almost thirty miles from the city. Being a young, dumb, naïve woman at the time, before there was Gun or even Jesus, Rodji was her god. Whatever he told her to do and however he told her to do it, Janiyah was on top of it.

  Janiyah was certain it couldn’t be Rodji, though, because he had been murdered three years ago after a dispute with another man. They had been sleeping with the same girl, and their argument turned deadly. The shooting shook the black residents of Raleigh to their core because many knew both Rodji and the man who was eventually convicted of his murder.

  “I have some pictures I want to share. I believe this ho out there and the crooked pastor standing in the pulpit have some explaining to do,” the voice commanded, bringing her out of her trip down memory lane. Images of Rodji’s ashes being sprinkled along Blue Ridge Mountain were replaced with the blank stares from the members of the audience.

  Before long, images of Janiyah and Gun’s intimate moment in the dressing room of the studio flashed on the screen. Admittedly, that had been one of the best lovemaking sessions the couple had ever experienced. It was impulsive, creative, and satisfying. What it wasn’t, apparently, was private. Janiyah’s face felt like it was sagging as image after image was broadcast from the teleprompter for the students to see.

  “Someone turn that off!” Gun roared as he moved to push the screen out of the way. Another teacher helped him as a few school administrators raced into the sound room.

  “Oh, there’s more,” another voice announced. “I’m going to get you, Janiyah Merrie Wilson Wade, if it’s the last thing I do. And I don’t mind destroying your career in the process. Play with me if you want to.”

  Janiyah was offended. She couldn’t recognize the voice right away, but whoever it was came for her in a very public way. This was unacceptable. Janiyah ran down the aisle and up the stairs to where the sound booth was, only to face deacons coming down the stairs.

  “Who is it?” Janiyah demanded an answer. “Who has the audacity to try to embarrass me in front of children?”

  Janiyah tried to hold back the tears as she saw the teachers shaking their heads in confusion. Janiah was infuriated. She wanted to know who did this to her, and most importantly, she needed to figure out how she was going to get them back.

  Chapter Eleven

  Janiyah bombarded Gun the moment he came into their home. “Any word on who that was that put our business all up and through the school?”

  She hated that she’d honored his request to go home and let the police and the other church administrators handle the investigation. How dare they tell her she couldn’t handl
e or be involved in the investigation going on? It was her that was being viciously and verbally attacked.

  The look on Gun’s face said it all: there was no new information. He loosened his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, and his suit jacket draped his arm like it was on a hanger. As she looked down, she noticed that some New Balance sneakers replaced the Johnston & Murphy shoes that he had grown comfortable with.

  He almost never wears tennis shoes with his dress clothes, she thought when she looked him over again.

  “We don’t know who pulled this stunt,” Gun informed her. He walked to their plush leather couch and dejectedly plopped his six-foot-one-inch frame down. “Apparently, our computer system was hacked, and the person was able to bypass our computer security and control the board from a remote location.”

  “That sounds like some FBI level stuff,” Janiyah acknowledged. She took a seat next to Gun and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “Truth is, any system can be compromised at any time. Anonymous taught us that,” Gun pointed out. “Whoever did it was probably waiting on the right time to catch us slipping, and they got what they wanted.”

  “Ain’t nobody did this but Brianna Clarise, and when I catch her—” Janiyah got up. She was getting ready to put on her fighting clothes and throw some blows.

  “Sit down.” Gun reached up and pulled her arm. He pleaded with his eyes for her to have a seat. “We don’t know for sure whether Brianna was in on this. You don’t know for sure if that girl was involved.”

  “She wouldn’t come on here unless she had a way to embarrass me. I bet she’s been plotting this thing since I beat her—”

  “Janiyah, stop!” Gun commanded as he forced her down next to him. “This thing with you and Brianna has gone on long enough. You need to let things go and forgive her. We won’t have any more issues with that girl if you just leave well enough alone.”