Lady Elect

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “To be quite honest with you, Lady Arykah, I want Miranda to have a shower because I’m already struggling to support just the two of us. I know that I can’t afford to purchase a stroller, a crib, a high chair, a swing, and everything else a baby needs.”

  “Well, Gladys, if you feel that way, why would you let the mothers influence what you do for your own daughter and grandbaby?”

  Gladys shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just trying to follow the wishes of the mothers of the church. They’re full of wisdom.”

  “They’re full of something, but it ain’t wisdom.” As soon as the words were out of Arykah’s mouth, she regretted saying them. She had verbally expressed her private thoughts, which was something Lance had told her that she should never do when counseling people. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But if you want to throw Miranda a baby shower, Gladys, then you should do it. She’s your daughter, that’s your grandbaby, and it’ll be your finances that will suffer if you try to do this on your own. That’s what baby showers are for. Miranda certainly can’t sleep in a crib. She can’t sit in a high chair nor can she fit in a bassinette. The gifts will be for your grandbaby, not Miranda.”

  “I hear you, Lady Arykah. And thanks so much. Now we got one more hurdle to jump over,” Gladys said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Mother Pansie told me that I have to stand before the church today and confess my sin. She said that I have to ask the church for forgiveness,” Miranda said.

  “That’s Mother Pansie’s rule,” Gladys added. “Whenever a single woman or young girl becomes pregnant, Mother Pansie makes them stand before the church.”

  It took every ounce of self-control and every fiber of Arykah’s being to remain calm.

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it because the devil was writing on her tongue. The three of them sat in silence. Gladys and Miranda saw Arykah fighting with herself to force her own lips to stay sealed.

  Finally, Arykah balled up her lips, opened her desk drawer, and withdrew a yellow sticky pad and a pen. On the pad she wrote, “I’m trying to stay saved right now. Give me a minute to collect myself.” She slid the note across the desk.

  Gladys and Miranda read Arykah’s note and laughed out loud.

  “Okay,” Arykah said after she was able to dismiss what the devil wanted her to say.

  She gained control of her own tongue. She had almost lost the battle, but she was able to remain in first-lady mode. “First of all, Miranda. That ain’t happening. Not on my watch. You don’t have to stand before the church and confess anything. The only one you owe an apology to is God. And only He can forgive your sins, not Mother Pansie, not Bishop Lance, and not me.”

  Lance knocked on Arykah’s door and looked inside. “It’s time to make our way down to the sanctuary.”

  Arykah smiled at her husband. She couldn’t wait to tell him how disrespectful and out of control the mothers were. But right then wasn’t the time to do so. She would save that conversation for pillow talk. “Okay. We’re done here,” Arykah responded to Lance.

  She looked at Gladys. “Are we good?”

  Gladys stood and walked around to Arykah and hugged her. “Yep, we’re good.”

  Arykah let go of the embrace and looked at Miranda. “Are we good?”

  Miranda stepped to Arykah and hugged her. “Yeah, Lady Arykah. We’re real good now. Thank you so much. And I’ll personally bring you an invitation to my baby shower.”

  “Good. I already know what the Bishop and I will buy.”

  Arykah was on her feet singing along with the choir when an usher came to her pew and extended his hand in Arykah’s direction. Arykah looked down the center aisle and saw Myrtle Cortland slowly coming her way. Arykah smiled so brightly that it matched the sun. She didn’t wait for Myrtle to reach the front pew. Arykah walked down the center aisle and met Myrtle halfway with open arms.

  Everyone in the sanctuary saw Arykah meet and greet the elderly woman and wondered who she was.

  Myrtle embraced Arykah and whispered, “It’s all right now, Sugar Plum. Your help is here.”

  Arykah allowed her emotions to take over, and she wept in Myrtle’s arms. Lance was seated in the pulpit watching. He knew Myrtle was coming to visit Freedom Temple that morning. Monique called to inform him shortly after she had left Myrtle’s house on Monday evening. Myrtle didn’t want Arykah to know about her visit; she wanted to surprise her.

  Arykah broke the embrace and looked in Myrtle’s eyes. “I’m so happy you’re here, Momma Cortland.”

  Being the best friend of Myrtle’s daughter-in-law certainly had its privileges. Not only was Monique the apple of Myrtle’s eye, but so was Arykah. As far as Myrtle was concerned, Arykah wasn’t just Monique’s best friend, but Myrtle considered Arykah her daughter as well. The two of them had captured Myrtle’s heart the moment Boris had introduced them to her years ago.

  Myrtle grabbed Arykah by the hand, and the two of them walked to the front pew and sat down next to Monique. Mother Gussie and Mother Pansie were seated behind Arykah, Myrtle, and Monique.

  “Welcome to Freedom Temple, Gravy,” Monique said.

  Myrtle leaned into Monique. “Where are they?”

  “Right behind us.”

  Myrtle turned all the way around to face Mother Gussie and Mother Pansie. She addressed them both. “The two of you can get ready to make room for me on that pew.” She turned back around and patted Arykah on her knee. “It’s gonna be all right now, Sugar Plum. Mother Cortland is here.” Myrtle didn’t see nor would she have cared about the mothers’ raised eyebrows.

  Mother Gussie and Mother Pansie didn’t say a word, but they certainly wondered who Myrtle was and why they needed to make room on the pew for her. They got their answer when Lance opened the doors to the church. That was when Myrtle stood and went to the altar.

  After the benediction, Arykah stood next to Lance at the sanctuary door. She told Lance that she would stand with him after church and greet the members, and she kept her word. They both shook hands with the members as they exited the church.

  “Lady Arykah, I love those heels,” Chelsea said.

  “Thanks, Chelsea. I saw you strutting in those boots this morning. Those are too cute.”

  Chelsea lifted up her long skirt so that Arykah could get a better look at how the boots fit her calves. “I am so happy that you hooked me up. If there is anything that I can do for you, Lady Arykah, please let me know.” Chelsea meant those words wholeheartedly.

  “As a matter of fact, Chelsea, I’m putting something together that I want you to be a part of. How can I reach you?”

  Chelsea reached in her purse for scratch paper and a pen. She jotted her cellular number down and gave the paper to Arykah.

  Arykah took the piece of paper from Chelsea, folded it, and slid it in her bra. “Thanks, I’ll be in touch.”

  Chelsea hugged Arykah, shook Lance’s hand, and then left the church.

  When Arykah and Lance shook the last hand, they ascended the stairs to their offices.

  Arykah opened her door and saw Myrtle and Monique sitting on the sofa inside.

  Besides Lance, Monique was the only other person with a key to the new lock on Arykah’s office door.

  “Momma Cortland, you don’t know what it meant for me to see you walking down that aisle. And you joined the church. That was totally unexpected.”

  “That was the plan,” Myrtle said.

  Arykah took off her hat and stepped out of the stilettos. “What plan?”

  Myrtle looked at Monique and smiled.

  Arykah looked at Monique. “What is she talking about? Did you know Momma Cortland was coming to join the church?”

  “I knew she was coming, but I assumed it was to just visit. I was shocked when she stood and joined the church. But what really made my eyes pop out of my head was when she told the mothers to make room on that pew. I had no idea what that meant. Now I do.”

  “Oh my goodness, I heard w
hat you said to the mothers,” Arykah said to Myrtle. “I wanted to turn around and look at the expressions on their faces so bad.”

  Before another word could be said, Arykah’s office door opened and Mother Pansie stormed in and approached her. “Did you tell Miranda that she didn’t have to stand before the church and ask for forgiveness for getting pregnant?”

  Arykah stood in the middle of her office gaping at Mother Pansie. I know this broad didn’t just walk into my office without knocking and try to front me off. “First of all, this is my office. When my door is shut, you knock, then wait to be invited in.”

  “To heck with knocking on a door.” Mother Pansie was hot. “Did you tell Miranda not to stand before the church?”

  Arykah placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, I did. Miranda’s pregnancy is her personal business. She doesn’t owe this church an apology.”

  Mother Pansie stepped closer to Arykah. “You can’t come into this church and start changing the way thangs is done around here. That young girl needs to confess her sins.”

  “Yes, she does. But to God, not the church.”

  Mother Pansie had enough. She pointed her finger at Arykah. “You know what? I’m just about tired of you.”

  “Hold on now, sister,” Myrtle interjected from the sofa. She sat quietly for as long as she could. Now she must rise. She stood on her feet and positioned herself next to Arykah.

  “Lady Arykah is correct,” she said in Arykah’s defense. “It is not up to the church to judge.”

  Mother Pansie snapped her head back. “And who in the heck are you?”

  “I’m Myrtle Cortland. I’ll be joining the Mothers Board real soon.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mother Pansie countered.

  Myrtle stared into Mother Pansie’s eyes. “I know so. And I got your number six ways from Sunday.” That was Myrtle’s way of informing Mother Pansie that she knew all about her and the dirty deeds she had done against Arykah.

  “Mother Pansie,” Arykah said, “I know you’re old school. You may not like me or some of the decisions that I make. But unwed mothers will no longer be made to stand before the church and ask for forgiveness. That’s one of the changes that you and Mother Gussie will have to accept. And please do not walk into my office ever again without knocking. I’d hate for you to catch me and the Bishop in a compromising position. We’re still newlyweds, you know.”

  Monique hollered and Myrtle chuckled.

  Mother Pansie exited and slammed the door behind her. She left with the same storm that she brought into Arykah’s office.

  Myrtle looked at Arykah. “Sugar Plum, I’m so proud of you.”

  Chapter 11

  Lance tried not to stir. But the motorcycle was working his last nerve. The alarm clock on the nightstand read 4:45 A.M. It was pitch-black outside. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the lines the streetlights made through the mini blinds. The noise from the motorcycle became louder. The idiot was coming down the street again. Lance glanced to his right and didn’t see Arykah lying next to him. The motorcycle’s engine revved. Angrily, he threw the covers from his body and rushed to the window to see what fool was on the side of his house making the noise so early in the morning. He didn’t see anyone on a motorcycle. Then Lance realized the noise was coming from behind him on the opposite side of the master bedroom door.

  He turned from the window and walked to the door and yanked it open. Once in the hallway on his way to the living room, he concluded the noise was coming from a vacuum.

  Didn’t Arykah know what time it was? What would possess her to want to vacuum before daybreak? His intentions were to pull the cord to the vacuum cleaner from the socket and grill his wife about her eagerness to clean house in the wee hours of the morning, but his vision stopped him in his tracks.

  Hair pulled back into a tight twenty-inch long ponytail, and an extremely short red silk camisole revealing oversized breasts that gave a bowl of Jell-O a run for its money caused Lance to pause. But it was the thigh-high, five-inch cheetah-print boots that looked as though they had been painted on Arykah’s legs that brought drool to Lance’s lips. He swallowed. Then he swallowed again. Arykah literally made Lance’s mouth water.

  Arykah had seen the boots in a Frederick’s of Hollywood magazine. The skinny chick that modeled the boots had to be a size double zero, and Arykah knew there wasn’t a chance in heaven the boots would wrap around her legs and thighs the way they wrapped around the extremely thin model’s legs and thighs. So, Arykah did what she did best. She purchased the boots, paid extra for overnight delivery, and took the boots to the tailor who had, on many other occasions, altered boots to fit her proportion. When she was told that a whole yard of material was needed to carry out the task, Arykah wasted no time heading to the nearest fabric store.

  Truth be told, Arykah thought the boots were trashy. That’s why she had to have them. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing the boots out in public. But in her mind, nothing was too trashy for the bedroom, her and Lance’s playground.

  If the congregation at Freedom Temple knew what kinds of toys and gadgets their pastor enjoyed playing with, they’d shame him and leave the church.

  The boots were just another prop that would stay hidden from the outside world. When the fun was over, Arykah would be sure to lock the boots away in a treasure chest she kept hidden in her closet. The boots would be an addition to the handcuffs, whips, and feathers already stored there.

  She knew Lance was there. Knew he was watching. Arykah didn’t acknowledge his presence, but she decided to put on a show for him. With her right hand on the vacuum cleaner handle, Arykah pushed it forward. She also stepped forward seductively with her right foot. Then she stepped backward with her right foot and brought the vacuum cleaner back to its starting point. She repeated the motion over and over again.

  Arykah seemed to be doing the cha-cha. Lance had never seen someone vacuum so sexily. She pushed the vacuum, then pulled it back; pushed it forward again, then pulled it back. She had a rhythm going, but all Lance could concentrate on were the thigh-high cheetah-print boots and the Jell-O.

  Arykah looked at the grandfather clock next to the fireplace. It was time. She shut the power off on the vacuum, stood it upright, then turned toward the laundry room. Lance watched as she sashayed in the boots and followed her like an obedient puppy. Her hips swayed from side to side as she walked. Swoosh, swoosh. It was like she was wading in water.

  He didn’t know where Arykah was going, but Lance wanted to remain in her company. He trailed her through the kitchen to the laundry room.

  Lance saw Arykah use a stepping stool to climb on top of the washing machine and sit down. He was intrigued. “What in the world are you doing?”

  As soon as he asked the question, the spin cycle on the washing machine started.

  Her body vibrated.

  Oh my God. Lance couldn’t believe his eyes. The Jell-O, the boots, the Jell-O, the boots.

  Arykah was wiggling uncontrollably. “You have about three minutes,” her voice was slightly above a whisper.

  “To do what?”

  “To shake with me.”

  Lance never knew that love so early in the morning could be so good.

  Hours after the fun in the laundry room, Lance had left for church. Since Arykah didn’t have any appointments the entire day, she decided to devote her time to searching the Internet for Italian drapes. Jeremy Montahue’s offer for the estate in Belfor had been accepted, and Arykah was keeping up her end of the bargain to redecorate the home office.

  In the master bedroom, she propped her pillows against the headboard, then sat on the bed and rested her back against them. She extended her legs forward, then set her notebook on her lap. She logged on to the Internet to Google Italian drapes when her cellular telephone rang. She grabbed the telephone from her nightstand and saw Monique’s number on the caller ID.

  “Hey, doll,” Arykah greeted.

  “Hey, yourself. Your voice mail at the re
alty office informed me that you wouldn’t be in the office today.”

  “That would be true,” Arykah stated.

  “So, what’s going on? Are you feeling all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t have any appointments today, so I decided to stay home and work on designing the home office in the Belfor estate. I have to present Jeremy with wood flooring samples and paint samples. I’m searching the Web for Italian drapes right now.”

  “Oh, wow,” Monique said. “You’re at home, but you’re just as busy as you’d be had you gone into the office.”

  “For the commission that I’ll receive for selling the Belfor estate, I truly don’t mind. The closing is in three weeks, and I promised Jeremy that the home office would be complete and to his satisfaction a week after closing.” Arykah exhaled. “So, what’s going on with you?”

  Monique was driving on the Dan Ryan Expressway heading north to WGOD radio station where she worked as a senior executive producer. “I got a call from Amaryllis last night. She said that she and Bridgette can’t make the fat girl party next Saturday night.”

  “Are you kidding me, Monique? What is their issue?”

  “According to Amaryllis, her guy, Charles, bought tickets to see Steve Harvey and Nephew Tommy at the Arie Crown Theater for next Saturday. Charles didn’t know that we had scheduled the party for that night.”

  “Okay. But why can’t Bridgette come?”

  “Bridgette will be out of town on business.”

  Arykah was disappointed. She looked forward to the monthly fat girl parties. They were when she could be herself, act a fool, and not worry about being judged or criticized for her behavior. “Well, I guess Bridgette’s gotta do what she’s gotta do for her job.”

  “And we can’t expect Amaryllis to stand her man up,” Monique added.

  “So, it’ll be just you and me, huh?”

  “Unless you want to invite someone else.”

  Bringing someone else into the circle had never crossed Arykah’s mind. Since the first fat girl party almost a year ago, the parties had only consisted of herself, Monique, Amaryllis, and Bridgette. “Someone like whom?”