Lady Arykah Reigns

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “Don’t call on the Lord about your feet,” Myrtle said as she sat down in a chair across from Arykah and removed her hat. “He didn’t tell you to put those high heels on.”

  Arykah set Diva Chanel down on the floor and watched her trot to her training pad in the corner of Arykah’s office. “Well, sometimes, it’s an inconvenience to be cute, Mother Cortland. I know you wore many a heel in your day.”

  Gladys sat down next to Myrtle. “The heels they made back then can’t even compare to the kind of heels you wear, Lady Arykah. I just don’t see how you do it.”

  “Practice makes perfect, Gladys.” Arykah noticed three of her team members missing. “Where are Darlita, Chelsea, and Monique?”

  “Darlita had to leave right after service,” Myrtle answered.

  “That accounts for one team member,” Arykah said.

  “You know that Chelsea is on the finance committee,” Gladys said. “She’s counting the tithes and offerings.”

  Arykah looked at Gladys. “Well, where’s Monique? She has all of my gifts the members just gave me.”

  Both Myrtle and Gladys shrugged their shoulders.

  Across the hall in Lance’s office, Monique stood on the opposite side of his desk with her arms folded across her chest. “Who’s Angela Moore?”

  Lance looked up at her. He paused before he spoke. “She’s a member.” He didn’t lie.

  Monique raised one eyebrow. “And an ex-girlfriend.”

  He exhaled. “Yes.”

  “Does Arykah know?”

  “I haven’t told her.”

  “She should know that your old flame worships here. Arykah should know who Angela Moore is. And why haven’t I seen her before today?”

  “I don’t know,” Lance answered. “Maybe she purposely stays out of the way. Angela is in church every Sunday. She and I haven’t dated in years, way before I was even engaged to Gwen.”

  Monique knew that Lance was engaged to a lady name Gwen when she died in a car accident. “Look, Bishop, I don’t think you’re living foul. I know how much you adore Arykah, but you have to tell her that your ex-girlfriend is here.”

  “I promise you that Arykah has nothing to worry about. Angela means nothing to me.”

  “Then why not tell your wife?”

  “I honestly don’t think it’s relevant.”

  “It’s relevant,” Monique insisted. “Tell her.”

  Lance knew that if he didn’t tell Arykah about Angela, Monique would surely do it. He exhaled. “Okay, I will tell Arykah about Angela.”

  “Today,” Monique said as she turned and exited his office with Arykah’s purse and gifts.

  Three

  Sunday afternoon Lance and Arykah were seated at their dining-room table surrounded by a feast. Mustard and turnip greens, ham hocks, sweet potatoes, hot water corn bread, and baked macaroni and cheese filled each of their plates. For dessert Lance had made banana pudding. It was a meal that he had half prepared early that morning before they left for church.

  As soon as Lance completed the blessing, Arykah added, “And, Lord, please let my stomach be bigger than my eyes.”

  She and Lance indulged.

  “You and Mother Myrtle missed a good service this morning. Three people gave their lives to Christ.”

  Arykah should have been grateful for the new souls joining the family of God but she decided to discuss the issue of why she missed morning service. “Well, had you not shared my personal business with Mother Myrtle, I would have been in service. Since when do you and I go outside of our marriage to discuss our marriage?”

  “We needed help, Arykah, and you know it.” Lance inserted a forkful of sweet potatoes in his mouth.

  Arykah looked across the table into Lance’s eyes. “We ? Did you say ‘we’? As I recall, there was only one half of we present in my office when Mother Myrtle tore me a new butthole.”

  Lance shook his head from side to side. “Arykah, your mouth.”

  She raised her eyebrows and glared at him. “What about my mouth?”

  “It’s ridiculous,” Lance complained.

  “Humph, you ain’t got a problem with what I do with my mouth in the bedroom.”

  Lance lay his fork down on his plate. “Don’t do this. I don’t wanna argue with you. Not after morning service was so good.”

  Arykah shrugged her shoulders. “How do I know how good morning service was? I was being yelled at while the saints were rejoicing.”

  “What did Mother Myrtle say to you? Why are you so mad?”

  Arykah didn’t want to let Lance know that Myrtle did, in fact, put her in her place. “Let’s just say that she gave me a ‘welcome back to church’ present. But it wasn’t gift wrapped and it wasn’t pretty.”

  “Did she help you? Do you still blame me for what happened?”

  Arykah drank sweetened iced tea and swallowed before she spoke. “No. And I’m sorry for what I put you through, Bishop. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  Lance was relieved. Thank God. “I’ve counseled many couples over the years. Do you know what breaks up marriages more than finances and adultery?”

  Arykah nodded her head. “Unforgiveness.”

  “Tragedies too.” Lance nodded and said, “When parents lose children it puts a deep hole in their relationships. We didn’t have our baby to hold, Arykah, but we still suffered a great loss. I’ve witnessed husbands and wives seek consolation elsewhere other than each other.”

  Lance’s words made Arykah recall what Myrtle had said to her earlier that day. And if you believe, for one second, that Lance is gonna just let you do him any kind of way because you’re throwing hissy fits and having baby tantrums, you got another thing coming. He ain’t gotta settle for your crap. Not when he’s got unlimited coochie standing in line just waiting for you to screw up.

  Lance snapped Arykah out of her daydream. “Cheeks?”

  She focused on his face. “Huh?”

  He chuckled. “Am I talking to myself? Where were you just now?”

  “I heard what you said, and we’re not gonna end up like other couples.”

  “We’re good?” he asked her.

  Arykah smiled. “We’re so good, Bishop.”

  Moments later, Arykah’s belly was filled to the max, but she had one forkful of potato salad that she wasn’t going to let be wasted. She needed something to go with the last of her potato salad. She looked across the table at Lance’s plate. “You gon’ eat cho’ cone-bred?”

  Her rendition of the famous line from the movie Life caused Lance to spit his food across the table. He hollered out and laughed so hard his throat hurt. Lanced loved Arykah’s craziness. She was sassy, fun, and care free. He never knew what would come flying out of her mouth. There were times when Lance would literally bite his nails down until they bled, worrying about what Arykah would say. Then there were times when Arykah was the funniest comic.

  He pushed his almost empty plate across the table. “You can have my cone-bred.”

  Arykah scooped up the corn bread and potato salad and savored them. “You’ve outdone yourself today, Chef.”

  “There’s dessert in the fridge,” Lance said. “Banana pudding.”

  Arykah looked at Lance seductively. “Grab a spoon and bring it to the bedroom.”

  Lance’s eyes lit up. She hadn’t looked at him that way in weeks.

  Arykah stood from the dining-room table and walked toward their bedroom. Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly sprinted into the kitchen to the utensil drawer for a spoon. He then opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bowl of banana pudding. Lance entered their master bedroom like a child entering the gates of Walt Disney World for the first time. He was overexcited. He saw Diva Chanel on the bed next to Arykah. He gave Arykah the spoon and bowl, then scooped Diva Chanel up. “It’s mommy and daddy dessert time.” He set her outside their bedroom door and closed it.

  An hour later Arykah was fussing. “Look at this mess you made, Lance.”
>
  Banana cream, whipped cream, and small bits of banana chunks had stained the expensive bedsheets.

  “The mess that I made? I brought a spoon. Who decided that we would eat the pudding off each other? That would be you.”

  Arykah stood from the bed and looked down at her pudding-covered naked body. She lifted her left breast and a piece of a vanilla wafer cookie fell to the floor.

  Lance laughed. “I was wondering what happened to the cookies.”

  Arykah lifted the lower portion of her belly and another piece of cookie fell to the floor. “That’s how I know that I’m fat as heck. I have cookies falling from between the rolls on my body.”

  “You’re beautiful, Cheeks. Even with the cookies falling out, you’re beautiful.”

  Arykah turned toward the master bath. “I gotta take a shower.” She left a trail of cookies behind her.

  Lance admired Arykah’s nakedness as she walked away from him. He had nicknamed her perfectly. He jumped up from the bed. “I’m sticky too, Cheeks. I’ll join you.”

  “Good,” Arykah said. “I may need your help. I’m sure there are cookies in places that I can’t reach.” She started the water in the shower and began singing Tamar Braxton’s song. “When my hair look a mess, yea, he gon’ tell me that I’m beautiful.”

  It took twenty minutes and a half bottle of liquid soap for Lance to find and remove all the vanilla wafers from Arykah’s body.

  Later that Sunday evening Lance found Arykah and Diva Chanel snuggled on the sectional in the great room. He scooped up the teacup-sized puppy and sat next to Arykah. “What are you doing, Cheeks?”

  Arykah was typing fast on the keys of her laptop that she had propped up on her thighs. “Just checking the latest listings on million-dollar properties.”

  “Are you back at work tomorrow?”

  “Yep.” Aside from missing five Sundays from church, Arykah, a real estate agent, had taken five weeks off from work as well.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “Well, as much as I would just love to be a housewife.” Arykah looked at Lance. “Not. You know I’m not the type to lie around the house all day, Bishop. There are houses to sell and there’s money to be made and there are—”

  “Stilettos to buy and handbags to buy and big hats to buy.” Lance completed Arykah’s sentence perfectly.

  Arykah laughed at her husband. “Is that all you think I do? Buy clothes and shoes?”

  “Well, let’s see here.” Lance looked up toward the vaulted ceiling as though he was deep in thought. “I paid cash for this house. I pay the homeowners insurance, every utility bill, every car note, plus insurance on the cars. I fill your gas tanks every week. And I buy all of the groceries. Now what do you do with your money?”

  Arykah mimicked Lance and looked up toward the same vaulted ceiling. “Well, let’s see here. I buy . . .” she paused. “I buy . . .” she paused again.

  Lance helped her out. “You buy stilettos, handbags, and big hats.”

  She could do nothing but laugh. “That ain’t all that I buy, Lance, and you know it.”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot about the expensive wigs and weaves. You may as well tell the truth and stay in church.”

  “I help out around here.”

  Lance nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll give you that credit. You do help out. Purchasing your own expensive clothes and shoes is a great help to me. And an occasional burnt meal is always appreciated.”

  Arykah chuckled, remembering the last meal she made for Lance resulted in the fire department beating down their front door. She had wanted to surprise him with breakfast in bed. It was a disaster. Arykah hadn’t been near the stove since.

  “And you do tip our housekeeper, Graciela, very well when she comes twice a month, but she’s on my payroll.”

  “I never said that I didn’t have it good, Bishop. I know that I’m blessed.” Truth be told, Arykah was more than blessed. Her cup ran over. She and Lance shared a joint savings account that they used to travel or purchase things together. Both of their signatures were required to make a withdrawal.

  Lance’s personal checking account was used to take care of his household and spoil his wife. Arykah’s commission checks from selling million-dollar homes are deposited in her own personal checking account. It’s the money she uses to buy the shoes, handbags, and whatever else she desires. Arykah also had a personal savings account. Twenty percent of her commission checks were deposited and tucked away for a rainy day.

  Arykah has offered, on many occasions, to pay the utility bills, but Lance had argued that it wasn’t her responsibility. Once, when Arykah arrived home, she retrieved the mail from the mailbox. In the stack of junk mail were the gas and water bills. Arykah wrote checks for both, placed a postage stamp on the envelopes, and put them in the mailbox. Two weeks later, when Lance realized that he hadn’t seen the gas and water bills, he mentioned to Arykah that he would call the companies to find out why he wasn’t billed for the month prior. When Arykah confessed that she had already paid those bills, Lance reminded her that she didn’t need to spend her money. He was the sole provider for them both.

  “I’m having the girls over this Friday for our Fat Girl party. It’s my turn to host again.”

  Every fourth Friday of each month, Arykah, Monique, her cousin Amaryllis, and Amaryllis’s roommate, Bridgette, took turns hosting a Fat Girl party. Collectively, the ladies tipped the scale at almost 1,100 pounds. The Fat Girl parties were times when the ladies let their hair down, ate what they wanted, danced, and caught up on the latest gossip. The four ladies had established a rule that no one who wasn’t a plus-size woman could join their party. It was strictly for fat girls.

  “Can I hire you to cater the event?”

  “This Friday evening?”

  “That’s right. Are you available?”

  Lance, a gifted chef, often catered parties and events. “I am, but you’re not.”

  Arykah looked at Lance curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “This Friday night at the church is your first monthly ‘Ask Arykah Anything’ night.”

  Arykah smacked her forehead. “Oh no. The triple ‘A’ session. I had forgotten about that. I set that up before my attack.”

  “Yep, you did, and it’s still on the church’s calendar. The women are looking forward to it.”

  “This will give the ladies of Freedom Temple a chance to get to know the real me.”

  “I think it’s great that you’re doing this, Cheeks.”

  “Me too. I’m hoping the triple ‘A’ sessions will break the ice between me and some of the women that still haven’t accepted me as their pastor’s wife.”

  “I’m optimistic. After the hugs and gifts you received today from the members, I’m sure your session will be a success.”

  Arykah kissed Lance on the lips. “You’re such a loving and supportive husband.” She went back to looking at listings on her computer.

  Lance exhaled. He needed to tell Arykah about Angela Moore but didn’t quite know how to do it. They had just made love for the first time in weeks. He and Arykah were in a good place. He dreaded that the subject of his ex-girlfriend at Freedom Temple would ruin it.

  “Cheeks, do you know who Angela Moore is?”

  She shook her head from side to side. “No. Should I?”

  According to Monique, you should. “She’s a member of the church. I know that you’ve only been at Freedom Temple for five months, and you haven’t yet met all of the members.”

  Arykah tried to jog her memory. “I don’t remember anyone introducing themselves as Angela Moore. Before today, only a handful of women have welcomed me. I would’ve remembered her if she had. What about her?”

  Lance didn’t answer.

  Arykah looked at him. “What about her?” she asked him again.

  “Angela and I dated.”

  Arykah’s eyebrows lifted. “And you’re telling me this because . . .”

  “Well, I t
hink you should know. That’s all.”

  “But why now? I’ve been there five months, Lance.”

  “I’ll be honest,” he said.

  Arykah’s eyebrows lifted higher. “You better be.”

  “I wasn’t gonna tell you about Angela until Monique approached me today.”

  “Monique?”

  “Somehow Monique found out that I used to date Angela, and she asked me if I had told you.”

  “Well, I’m curious about why you didn’t tell me.”

  Lance shrugged his shoulders. “Well, because it doesn’t matter, Cheeks. Angela and I were over years ago. Even before I met Gwen.”

  “Did you screw her?”

  Of course Arykah could have asked the question in a more delicate way like . . . “Were the two of you intimate?” or “Was the relationship a sexual one?” But Myrtle’s words to Arykah to never sugarcoat were impacted in her brain.

  Lance was very uncomfortable but knew that he had to be honest with his wife. “Yes.”

  “Were you in love with Angela?”

  “We were together for three years, Arykah. I mean, I cared very deeply for her.”

  “Were . . . you . . . in . . . love . . . with . . . her?” Arykah overemphasized her words and spaced them apart.

  “Yes.”

  “So, there was a soul tie. And you didn’t feel the need to tell me? You don’t think I have the right to know who’s smiling in my face, Lance? Is she prettier than me?”

  “Cheeks, ain’t nobody prettier than you.”

  She looked at him. “You better had said that.”

  “It’s the truth,” Lance confirmed.

  Arykah thought that if she used reverse psychology on Lance, he’d get where she and Monique was coming from. “Suppose there was a guy at the realtor’s office that I had knocked boots with and didn’t tell you. How would you feel to know that I’m still working with him?”