“I can’t believe she’d have the nerve to show up here,” Rose whispered, as she looked on with tightened lips. “She ought to be ashamed.”
“But she ain’t,” Nadeen growled, like a lioness preparing to pounce on a dangerous intruder circling her cubs. In actuality, Dior was doing exactly that, endangering the welfare of Nadeen’s children. A major breakup over another woman would tear them apart and likely cause deep-seated issues of distrust manifesting themselves in the girls’ lives later on. There were far more circumstances to consider than Richard’s infidelity and his supposed waning affinity for Dior. Nadeen stared sullenly as her nemesis took a seat on an adjacent pew. In a moment, clouded by ambiguity, one truth was made clearly evident. “It takes a different kind of woman to show her face, Rose, after she’s gone to so much trouble showing her tail.”
Twenty-three
Daddy’s Girls
Richard entered the stage from the left side, in the red power tie Nadeen had selected for the previous pastor’s day observance. Phillip, whose lip was still slightly swollen, trailed behind him. Both men felt awful about the conference room brawl but it was Richard who called his old friend to make amends. Phillip agreed that things had gotten out of hand, citing his frustration about the charter school setback and his favorite pastor putting all they’ve worked for in jeopardy because of what he called “the devil’s daughter” trying to bring down the Lord’s house. However, Phillip was relieved when he was told about Richard’s make-up session with Carlton Tatum and his decision to squelch the carnal lust burning in his heart for Dior.
Without any additional fanfare, Richard approached the pulpit podium displaying an intense expression. He opened his copy of the Word to the book of Exodus, then peered up from the text, his eyes locked on his wife’s saddened face. Because he’d labored over this sermon, he wasn’t interested in being distracted in the least. This was a message to himself as well as to the congregation. “Morning, church,” he said, forcing a hint of a smile. “It’s a great day to worship the Lord, amen?” There was a resounding assurance from the audience. “Today is special in many regards. I’m not sure where to begin so I’ll just get right down to the lesson and pray it all falls into place. Now, I know that oftentimes Christians feel as though our sins are so big, so bad, and so bountiful that there is no way we can continue to go to God and have Him be there at the ready to pick us up when we fall.” A smattering of applause emanated from the audience. Not all of them wanted to openly admit their sins had drawn them so far away. “Oh, I must be stepping on some toes this morning because I know that in a man’s, a woman’s, and a child’s life there are moments, days, weeks, months when the storms seem insurmountable, meaning . . . the problems we’ve faced, the wrongs we’ve done, the hurt we’ve caused is so high that we can’t get over them, so low we can’t get under them, and so wide . . . you know the rest.” A thunderous roar rang throughout the crowd. Richard pointed his finger at the congregation then toward the television cameras. “I knew it. I knew. You can’t hide the truth. I can’t hide the truth. God knows all, sees all, and is able to do all. Now, this brings me to my point. Praise God and serve God in your brokenness. I’m not sure that’s even a word you can find in the dictionary but it’s certainly a word God understands, and it makes a whole lot of sense to me. Listen well, church, the human soul is the only thing I know of that can still be of great worth when it’s broken.” Richard flipped pages to find the scripture he wanted to lead in with. Oddly, his attention was pulled in another direction, to Dior’s cleavage. He glanced up from the Bible, froze for a brief moment, then took out his handkerchief to dab at the sweat beading on his forehead. Seeing Dior unexpectedly sent a bolt of emotion through him. Simultaneously, he found himself morbidly uncomfortable, sad for Nadeen, and extremely excited Dior had returned.
Nadeen could barely stand to see the way Richard’s countenance changed the second he saw his mistress batting eyes at him while he was attempting to spread the Word no less. When she was no longer able to watch Dior’s blatant display, Nadeen bowed her head so she wouldn’t have to. Richard saw that his wife appeared to be taking the brunt of Dior’s presence. For the first time in his marriage, he was truly sorry for having hurt Nadeen. Before, he’d said or done things in the heat of an argument or as a result of a discussion gone awry but this one was blaringly mournful. Immediately, he reverted focus to the text and held his finger there to secure the precise passage. “The Lord had proven time and again that He does not put more on our narrow shoulders than we can handle. He knows what your breaking point is and every now and then lets you get there, only to be reminded of who He is and what His place in your life should be.” He heard Phillip’s voice howl above the others after being reminded himself.
“Amen, Brother Pastor!” he cheered, having seen what can happen when people lose their sights on the importance of keeping God where He belongs.
“If the Lord is not on the top, supporting you from the bottom, both sides, and in the middle, something is incredibly wrong with the way you’re doing business with Him. Let’s take Moses, for instance, in the book of Exodus, starting at the second chapter somewhere around verse number one. Most of us have read the story of the burning bush or have seen it on TV during Easter movies week, but I’m here to tell you right now, God went out of His way to get Moses to see things His way by first getting his attention and proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was in fact the Lord reaching out in the first place. You don’t believe He’ll do the same for you, watch this. When Moses was tending sheep and minding his own business, verse number two says, There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire, yet it did not burn.” Richard slammed his hand down on the podium. “Everyone out there at some point in your lives have said to yourselves, ‘I was in an accident and by all accounts I should have been killed.’ Or, ‘The doctors said that kind of cancer should have ended my life.’ Or, ‘I was acting so carelessly with my body that it’s a miracle I didn’t get pregnant.’ Or, ‘I had so much to drink the Lord must have guided my car home.’ ” Richard clapped joyously. “You can’t tell me God isn’t still in the miracle-making business. There’s something else you need to be aware of. Chapter three says, So Moses thought, ‘I will go over and see this strange sight — why the bush does not burn up.’ When the Lord saw that Moses had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, ‘Moses! Moses!’ And Moses said, ‘Here I am.’ ”
After dabbing his forehead again and purposely ignoring Dior, Richard moved across the platform as if setting the stage for a contemporary application. “God used a sign to bring Moses near then He called out to him specifically. When Moses heard his name, he acknowledged that he was attentive, present, and accounted for.” Speaking into a cordless microphone, Richard put on a fearful expression while staring into a make-believe bush. “I’m here, what you want with me?” Richard whispered with feigned astonishment. He waved the Bible again, reading from verse five. “ ‘Do not come any closer,’ God said. ‘Take off your sandals, for the place you are standing is holy ground.’ See, He made Moses humble himself before receiving the message. Then He said, ‘I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and Jacob.’ God was simply letting Moses know that He was Lord to his daddy, his daddy’s daddy, and his great-great granddaddy too.” Laughter filled the sanctuary. Richard even saw a smile trickle onto Nadeen’s lips. “Moses then hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God. The Lord said, ‘I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey — ’ Doesn’t that sound just like God to give His people the best there is? He said He’d give them the home of the Canaanites: Beverly Hills, of the Hittites: Hollywood, of the Amorites: Rodeo Drive, of the Perizzites:
the cobbledstone streets of Paris, of the Hivites and Jebusites: Park Avenue and Fifth Avenue. God said He’d make good on the best there was to offer.” Richard was in his zone then; he placed the Bible on the podium stand then freestyled it from there. Nadeen always said that’s when he was at his most persuasive. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to recap just to make sure we’re on the same page as Moses and God. The Lord was telling Moses and now I’m telling you, He has seen your struggles. He was there when the slave catchers beat on your ancestors. He was there when the police let the dogs loose on your kinfolk in Birmingham, Alabama. He was there when your supervisor passed you over for a promotion and the person who did get it was less qualified and three shades lighter. God was there when your friends lied on you. He was there when you got up out of Susan’s bed then hopped right into Steven’s bed. That’s right, I said it. He was there when you promised to put down the crack, the cocaine, the pipe, the pills, and the porn. And He was there when you went back and picked them up again too.” Richard had the congregation standing on their feet, praising and moaning. “Know that whatever the struggle is, God is there too. Furthermore, it’s clear to me why the bush was on fire but did not burn. God was in the bush!” The ovation swelled. Phillip handed his friend a glass of water. Richard sipped until the cheers subsided. “When God is in it, there’s always a chance to walk away without getting burned. Amen. He knew Moses’ people were troubled, oppressed, and distressed just like He knows your struggles too. Praise Him and serve Him, in your brokenness. When He gets your attention, church, and then calls your name, humble yourselves, listen to His instruction, and then do what He moves you to do. I’ve heard Him call my name and I’m going to respond accordingly. The deacons don’t know about this, the elders either, but I had decided to put my money where my mouth is by writing a personal check for three hundred and fifty members to go with me on a fellowship mission to New Orleans to help them during their brokenness. I’m paying for the buses, gas, and hotel rooms. I realize it’s short notice but for those who are able to make the worthwhile journey, we’ll leave Thursday at midnight, arrive there in time for breakfast, and enjoy a long day of painting and repairing. We will then leave the Crescent City around noon on the following day. This is a pledge to help restore the damaged areas which the state and federal governments failed to protect and later have seemed to overlook.” Richard caught a glimpse of the row where Dior had been sitting. When he didn’t see her, he assumed she had skipped out after having either felt neglected or touched by the power of the message. It wouldn’t take long before Richard learned not to underestimate Dior’s extraordinary savvy for scandal.
While checking her makeup in the women’s lounge, Dior identified a miniature admirer. Roxanne stood behind her, looking on at the woman she figured was responsible for the tense emotions wedged between her parents. The precocious eight-year-old wrinkled her nose after Dior refreshed her perfume with an exaggerated squirt from a travel-size bottle. Patiently waiting for the darling and littlest Allamay to let go of the words ready to seep out where two front teeth used to be, Dior turned and extended her hand for an introduction. “Well, aren’t you the prettiest thing.”
“I said the same about you but my mommy said you wasn’t all that pretty. Sometimes mommies make mistakes though,” she asserted with a brisk head nod.
“My name is Dior Wicker and I’m guessing you are Roxanne Allamay?” Dior shook hands with the small child, seeing semblances of Richard throughout her face.
“You guessed right, Ms. Dior, but my friends call me Roxy.”
“Can I call you Roxy?”
“If you want to be my friend,” she answered with a wistful smile.
“Good, it’s a deal. Friends.” Dior checked her hair then motioned to say goodbye to Roxanne. The girl gazed at the woman, dressed perhaps a bit too casually for Sunday service. There was a question stamped on her tiny face. Dior leaned in closer, fearing she might say something that shouldn’t be overheard by other women milling about. “Yes, what is it, Roxy?”
“I’ve been wanting to see you again because I wanted to ask you something. Well, I can’t figure it out but I’m only a kid so there’s a lot about grown-up stuff I don’t know yet.”
“If there’s something on a young lady’s mind, she should always come right out with it.” Dior smiled cordially, believing she handled that fairly well for a beginner. Before giving it any more thought, Roxanne came out with both barrels blazing.
“Ms. Dior, why do you want to be my new mommy?” Roxanne’s question caught Dior off guard. She stalled, while searching her mind for appropriate words that wouldn’t upset her young acquaintance. It must have taken too long for the child’s liking because she broke in another one. “Another thing, Herman’s daddy called you a stank-butt gold digger but he isn’t a real man because he can’t keep a job more than a week at a time, so he cannot be taken seriously. Do you know Herman’s no-good, always-begging daddy?”
“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him. On the other hand, he certainly thinks he knows me,” she joked uncomfortably.
“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed out on a thing. Trust me,” Roxanne assured her.
Mahalia entered the women’s room on an investigative search for her younger sister, who at times hung out too long, listening to adults trading gossip. Roxanne jerked her head when Mahalia berated her for staying out of sight long enough to get yelled at by their mother.
“You know better than to run off like that, Roxy. I’m tired of having to look all over for you,” she huffed, staring squarely into Dior’s eyes with hateful intentions. “And don’t ever let me catch you talking to her again or I’ll beat you myself.”
“What’s the matter with talking to her?” Roxanne squealed.
“Shut up!” Mahalia snapped, grabbing her kid sister by the arm and proceeding to pull her out of there by hook or by crook until Dior raised her hand to stifle their exodus.
“Hold up a minute. Roxy asked me a question I didn’t get the chance to answer,” Dior said in a soothing tone. “You remember, don’t you, friend, the one about me being your new mommy? Why don’t you ask your daddy why he wants me to be his new mama?” Evidently shaken by the tone Mahalia used when warning Roxanne to stay away or else, Dior assumed Nadeen must have put the child up to it. Regardless, Dior was hurt by the interaction and saw to it that she wouldn’t be the last one feeling the sting of embarrassment.
Mahalia made Roxanne promise never to speak of her encounter with the witch in the restroom because she recognized the gravity of Dior’s insinuation. During the ride home, not one word was cast. Nadeen dealt with seeing Dior in another light, so close to home at that. Richard couldn’t afford to make any wrong moves with Nadeen, knowing the end of his marriage was merely one lawyer phone call away. Roxanne was sworn to secrecy and brooding about the pact she was forced to conceal. Mahalia was lost as to why everyone was letting this outsider come into their lives without checking her. Roxanne was Dior’s newest fan. Richard didn’t have a leg to stand on. And her mother appeared to have thrown in the cards. Fueled by her parents’ reluctance to straighten out Dior for getting involved with another woman’s husband, Mahalia remained soured by the series of events leading them to this troublesome crossroad. She swore to God that she would get even with that tramp, if she ever got the chance.
Twenty-four
Eggshells and Egos
Two grueling days at the Allamay household had taken its toll. Everyone was on pins and needles. Mahalia stayed cooped up in her room but not like before when seduced by compilations of mindless teenaged chatter. Behind closed doors, she spent endless hours fuming with her mouth slammed shut. Richard had numerous problems of his own to worry about, too many to be aware of his eldest daughter’s. He walked on eggshells after having been banished to the guestroom and wondering when and if he would ever be allowed to reclaim his side of the bed in the master suite. Nadeen held her tongue while taking it all in. She w
orked diligently at making strides to forgive Richard’s intimate relations with Dior through daily prayer and intense personal Bible studies. Rose ran right over to visit her when she heard the strain in Nadeen’s voice during a brief phone call. She wanted to say how she empathized but that wasn’t entirely true. Her husband, Phillip, hadn’t given his mistress carte blanche to pop up at his job dressed in nightclub attire and put her face in his then have the unmitigated gall to pretend it was all done in the name of Godly worship. Rose didn’t identify with or internalize her girlfriend’s plight because they didn’t belong to her. Despite her feelings of inadequacy, Rose stumbled onto a bridge fit for Nadeen’s journey forward, a bridge to tread above her tribulations without having to endure yet another minute of indecisiveness. Not knowing what to do about anything that mattered had her trapped in a mean blue funk that would not cut her an even break.
“I have just the thing for you,” Rose gushed eagerly, as soon as Nadeen greeted her at the door. She held up a stack of books and pamphlets bound by a purple ribbon. “You probably don’t remember these; I almost forgot about them myself.” Nadeen eyed the stack of literature curiously as Rose stepped in waving it excitedly.
“Now you’ve got me interested. Let’s go on up to my room and see what this is you brought for me.”
Rose chuckled. “Richard is still in the doghouse, huh?”
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