When Arykah looked up she saw Gladys and Darlita dancing too. What Arykah loved about that moment was that neither of them were doing any particular dance. They were all just taking in the lyrics and moving their bodies freely.
“Just fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, ooooh,” they all sang along with Mary J. Blige.
The song was nearing the end when the doorbell rang, through the intercom, and interrupted the ladies’ flow.
Arykah looked at her wristwatch. She was having so much fun that she had lost track of time. “Our limo is here, ladies,” she announced.
“Already?” Darlita asked. She wasn’t complaining. She was looking forward to going to the spa, but she was mastering the stilettos and enjoyed dancing in them.
Arykah answered the door and told the limousine driver that she and the ladies would be out momentarily. The ladies wrapped their plates of food in the Styrofoam containers that Arykah had provided for them. They left the containers of food on the center island in the kitchen. They would get their food when they returned to Arykah’s home, after the spa, to get their cars.
“Remember that we’re walking the red carpet into the spa, ladies. So, keep your stilettos on,” Arykah instructed.
In the front hall the ladies put their coats on and left Arykah’s home. They climbed in the white Hummer limousine she hired for the evening.
“Looka here, looka here, looka here,” Chelsea said. The Hummer was long, it was white, and it looked like it stretched for half a block.
“Lady Arykah, you went all out, didn’t you?” Darlita asked.
“We’re gonna have to start calling you Oprah. And we’re your Gayles,” Gladys commented. “Because this here is some Oprah and Gayle stuff you’re doing.”
“I’m just happy that my Gayles are having a good time. I really wanted this evening to be a memorable one,” Arykah said getting comfortable on the leather seat.
“It already is,” Monique stated, looking down at her new stilettos. “That’s for sure.”
The limousine pulled away from the curb, and the ladies were en route to their next destination. Darlita leaned back in the plush leather seat and extended her legs forward. “I feel like royalty.”
“We all do,” Chelsea added.
Arykah looked into the eyes of her guests. “The night is young. The best is yet to come.”
For the next forty-five minutes, the ladies made small talk during the ride to the spa.
When the limousine came to a complete stop outside of The Massage Palace, the ladies could hardly keep still in their seats.
The driver exited the Hummer and walked around to the rear passenger door and opened it for the ladies. Gladys was the first to step out on the red carpet that had been rolled out from the door of the spa to the limousine. As soon as her foot touched the carpet, she was greeted with flashes of light. Arykah had hired three professional photographers to behave like the paparazzi.
Monique followed Gladys out of the limousine and posed for the cameramen. She pointed to her feet and said, “Don’t forget the shoes. Make sure to get the shoes.”
The cameras were in Darlita’s face as soon as she exited the limousine. “Wow.” She was a celebrity that night, and she loved every bit of it. She gave the famous beauty pageant wave with her hand and blew kisses at the cameras.
Chelsea climbed out of the limousine and immediately went into celebrity mode. She posed and smiled, then smiled and posed.
“What’s your name?” one of the cameramen asked her.
Her grin got even wider. “Chelsea.”
“Chelsea, over here,” the cameraman on her left called out to her.
Chelsea looked into the lens of his camera and laughed. She was loving the moment.
“Chelsea, who are you wearing on your feet?” the cameraman on her right asked her.
Prior to the ladies arriving at the spa, all three cameramen had been briefed by Arykah to focus on the ladies’ shoes.
“Christian Louboutins, dahling,” Chelsea answered in her best Zsa Zsa Gabor voice.
Monique, Gladys, and Darlita were standing off to the side laughing at Chelsea. She was giving the paparazzi exactly what they wanted.
Arykah exited the limousine last. She immediately posed for the cameras. Arykah turned her back to one of the cameraman and lifted the bottom of her shoe. The cameraman took photos of the red sole. Arykah called Gladys, Monique, Chelsea, and Darlita over to where she was standing. She instructed all three cameramen to take many shots of the group. All five ladies worked the red carpet. No one could have convinced them that they were not the highest-paid celebrities in Chicago. They were causing a scene outside of The Massage Palace. Folks that were walking by had stopped to see who the famous ladies were.
“Who are they?” Arykah heard someone ask. She smiled in their direction.
When the cameraman told Arykah that they had all the shots they needed, she escorted the ladies into the spa where the owner, an elderly Caucasian lady, was waiting inside the door. Next to her was another woman, dressed in what looked like a nurse’s uniform, holding a tray with flutes filled with champagne.
“Welcome back to The Massage Palace, Mrs. Howell,” the owner greeted Arykah.
Arykah smiled. “Helga, it’s good to see you again.”
Arykah and Monique were not strangers to The Massage Palace. It’s where they came often to unwind and get pampered. Arykah introduced the ladies to Helga. “These are my guests for the evening. Darlita, Chelsea, Gladys, and, of course, you know Monique.”
Helga shook each of the ladies’ hands. “I welcome all of you. My staff and I are delighted to have you here this evening. Your rooms are ready. Come this way, please.”
Each of the ladies followed Helga and grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray on the way. They were assigned to private rooms where massage beds were set up for them.
When Arykah made the reservations with The Massage Palace, she specifically stated that she wanted each of her guests to have full-body massages, manicures, and pedicures.
Three hours later, the ladies met up together in the sauna.
“So, did everyone enjoy their pampering?” Arykah asked.
“Well, I can only speak for myself,” Gladys said. “I enjoyed it tremendously.”
Monique wiped her sweaty face with a small white towel. “I second that. This is exactly what I needed.”
Darlita pulled the belt to her plush white terry cloth robe tighter. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you, Lady Arykah. No one has ever done anything like this for me.”
Because the room was steamy and cloudy, Arykah could barely make out Darlita’s silhouette. “You don’t have to repay me, Darlita. That is not what this evening is about. I wanted to treat all of you because I like you and I knew we’d have a great time together. I enjoy making people happy.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re blessed the way you are,” Chelsea said. “I’ve watched you from the first day you stepped foot into Freedom Temple. Everyone, me included, treated you so coldly. And for no real reason. We didn’t know you, and we didn’t wanna know you. I told you this two weeks ago, Lady Arykah, and I’ll tell you again. I apologize for being the mothers’ puppet. In some twisted way, I felt that I had to be loyal to them. I thought I owed them my allegiance.”
“We all did,” Darlita admitted sadly.
“But the moment I complimented you about your boots,” Chelsea continued, “you spoke to me like we had been friends for years.”
“And that’s the true Arykah,” Monique said to Chelsea. “She’s open, approachable, warm, and very honest. When you befriend Arykah, you have a friend for life. She will have your back and fight the tallest giant for her friends.”
“I know that to be true, Monique,” Gladys said. She looked at Arykah through the steam. “And I am happy to have you as my friend. I thank you for coming to Miranda’s defense.” She knew Arykah had gone head-to-head with Mother Pansie for her daughter, Miranda.
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“You’re a superb first lady, but you’re an even better friend,” Chelsea said.
Because the sauna was so muggy and dark, the ladies couldn’t see Arykah’s tears streaming down her face. All she ever wanted was to be accepted by her new church family. Arykah was happy that she had reached out to Chelsea, Gladys, and Darlita. She was sure that the evening at the spa was just the beginning of many more fun times to come. “Thanks, Chelsea. That means a lot to me. And I am so happy that all of you accepted my invitation to come out and have a great time.”
“Okay, group hug,” Monique said.
Everyone surrounded Arykah and hugged her. “Thanks, Oprah. Thanks, Ms. Winfrey. Thanks O,” the ladies joked.
Arykah laughed. “You’re welcome, Gayles.”
It was almost 10:00 P.M. when the ladies returned from the spa to Arykah’s home for their food and shoes they had left behind. Chelsea, Darlita, and Gladys couldn’t thank Arykah enough for what she did for them that evening. As they left her home, the ladies gave Arykah another hug and a kiss on her cheek. Arykah told the ladies that she was looking forward to seeing them at church the next morning.
Arykah walked into the living room and found Monique sitting on the sofa.
“Okay, why did you want me to stay behind?” Monique asked.
Arykah plopped down on the sofa next to Monique. “Because I wanna know what happened between you and Chelsea earlier this evening. Girl, I had to check her for lying on my bed and asking me about my sex life with Lance.”
Monique’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“Chelsea flat-out asked me if Lance could get down in the bed just as good as he got down in the pulpit.”
“What?” Monique shrieked.
“She almost caught a left hook,” Arykah chuckled.
Monique was too outdone. “That cow lay on your bed and asked you how good your man was?”
“Yep. But I didn’t even have to put Chelsea in her place. Gladys beat me to it, and she sent her out here to the living room to apologize to you for acting like a stank broad.”
“Well, Chelsea did apologize. She told me that she was out of line for implying that Adonis was living foul. I told her that I know my husband and I know he loves me. I also told Chelsea that Adonis wasn’t going anywhere.”
“You think she got the message?” Arykah asked.
“Oh, she got the message, all right. Because I also told her that if I caught her grinning in Adonis’s face, there’ll be consequences and repercussions.”
Lance was asleep when Arykah crawled into bed and snuggled up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck.
He stirred and pressed the back of his body into Arykah’s warmth. “Mmm, BoonQueesha is home.”
Arykah sank into Lance’s backside and tried to bury herself in his flesh. She smiled because she truly did have everything in life that she had prayed for.
And that’s exactly why you’re blessed the way you are. Chelsea’s words danced in her head. She didn’t want for nothing. Arykah loved the fact that she could be a lender and not a borrower. From her adoring husband, to her massive estate, to a job she loved, to her health and strength, Arykah was highly favored. “Father God, I thank you,” she whispered. She lay her head on her pillow and held her husband in her arms all night long.
Chapter 15
At 8:35 A.M., the sun was high in the sky. Lance lay in bed with his hands stretched behind his head watching the Bobby Jones gospel celebration. Ricky Dillard and his choir, The New Generation Chorale, was putting on a show. Ricky directed the choir as if he were directing a twenty-piece orchestra. With his right hand, Ricky directed the soprano section to sing a high note. With his left hand, he ordered the alto section to sing a lower note. But when Ricky pointed his left foot at the tenor section and the men chimed in, Lance was outdone. “That dude is crazy.”
Arykah stepped from her closet wearing a floor-length scarlet-red V-neck dress with an empire waist. A dressy but not too elegant beading lined the neckline and waistline. The price was still dangling from the sleeves. If Arykah wore the red dress to church that morning, it would be another Sunday that she wouldn’t wear a repeater. On her feet were her brand-new Christian Louboutins. She came and stood in between Lance and the television. “How do I look, honey?”
Lance had only one word for his wife. “Magnificent.” He loved the color red on Arykah. She lifted the front of the gown so that Lance could see her shoes.
“Are those the famous Christina Aguilera’s?”
Arykah laughed out loud. “I do believe that you’re mentally challenged, Lance. These are Christian Louboutins.”
Lance frowned. “Who?”
Arykah waved her hand at him. “Oh, forget it.” She rotated on her heels and modeled the outfit. “So, how’s this for a Sunday morning?” Being a plus-sized woman, Arykah took extra precautions to always look her absolute best. She had come to terms long ago that vanity played a huge part in her everyday life. She was extremely vain, and she knew it.
“Absolutely stunning,” Lance said. “I think I’ll wear a black suit with a black shirt and my red silk tie.”
“Perfect,” Arykah said. Lance often tried to match her colors. She turned from him and started to head back to her closet.
“Mother Pansie called me last night when you were out with the ladies.”
Arykah stopped walking and turned to look at Lance. Whenever Mother Pansie called Lance, it was always for some type of drama. “What did she want?”
“She informed me that she’s gonna sit Miranda Blackmon down from the choir. She won’t be singing with the young adult choir this morning. Miranda is pregnant at fifteen years old. The mothers feel strongly that the wrong message is sent when a young, unwed, pregnant girl participates in a church activity.”
Arykah inhaled, then exhaled. She inhaled again, then exhaled. Her stomach and breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. Arykah was getting ready to snap, but before she went totally off, she would wait and get Lance’s take on the situation. He only told Arykah what Mother Pansie said what she was going to do about Miranda. Lance hadn’t yet shared with Arykah how he responded to her. Hopefully, Lance put the old woman in her place. Arykah wanted to know how Lance handled the witch. Before she spoke, Arykah prayed to the almighty, ever-loving, most high God in heaven, that she didn’t have to show her behind on a Sunday morning. Arykah’s behind was big, and it was wide. If need be, she would expose her entire backside.
Arykah folded arms beneath her breasts, sending them high into the air. “And how do you feel about Mother Pansie snatching Miranda from the choir?” Her neck danced along with her question.
Lance swallowed. Arykah’s body language sent him vibes. Crossed arms, a dancing neck, and direct eye contact told him that she was a tad bit disturbed by what he had just told her. “Well, for one thing, Cheeks, I have to respect the mothers’ opinions and—”
“Respect their opinions?” Arykah cut Lance’s words off. “Their stupid, ignorant opinions? First of all, we’re talking about a young, impressionable teenager who made a mistake, Lance. Gladys brought Miranda to my office, and the three of us discussed Miranda’s pregnancy. They told me that Mother Pansie wanted Miranda to stand before the whole church family to apologize for getting pregnant and ask for forgiveness.”
“That’s usually how it goes, Cheeks.”
Arykah stepped out of her stilettos, lifted her dress over her head, and threw it on the bed. She came and stood totally naked in front of her husband. “Why? Why do you make young girls stand before the church and put themselves on blast like that? That’s humiliating, Lance. I know that pregnancy is something that can’t be hidden. I know that eventually, when Miranda’s belly gets bigger, everyone will know she’s pregnant. But what I don’t get is why someone has to be shamed for a sin they committed.”
Under normal circumstances, Arykah’s nude body would turn Lance on and he’d reach out and caress a body pa
rt. But the vibes she sent him that morning and her loud voice told him that sex was the last thing on her mind. She was ready for battle.
“Cheeks, when young girls are made to stand before the church, it isn’t to shame them. It’s to humble them and make them acknowledge what they’ve done.”
Arykah looked at Lance like he was an alien. “Are you for real? That’s the dumbest crap I have ever heard. Isn’t a growing belly, morning sickness, and swollen ankles acknowledgment enough? Miranda doesn’t owe the church anything. Freedom Temple isn’t reserving her seat on the right hand of the Father. That’s Jesus’ job. And He’s the only one Miranda owes an explanation to. Not the freakin’ church!” she yelled.
Lance saw Arykah’s nostrils flaring and her veins bulged from her neck. She was hot.
“Okay, Cheeks, you need to calm down.”
“And you need to man up,” she snapped. “Grow some cashews and man up.” Arykah saw Lance’s eyeballs pop out of his head. She knew she had just insulted her husband.
“Oh, you don’t like what I’m sayin’ to you? Well, let me tell you what I don’t like, Lance. I don’t like the fact that Mother Gussie and Mother Pansie are allowed to run through the church freely and bully people just because they feel they can. You give them way too much power.”
“I give them power?”
Arykah put her hands on her naked waist. “Well, heck, aren’t you the pastor of the church? Nothing gets done before you give the okay. No decision is made unless you sign off on it. You are the head shepherd, the bishop, the leader, and it’s your head that’ll roll when souls are lost. God has placed you in a position to win souls and to nourish His flock.
“Taking that girl out of the choir will be detrimental. Yes, Miranda has sinned, but so what? Just because she’s pregnant she can’t sing praises to God? How dumb is that? Miranda has admitted to falling down, and she admitted to making a mistake, but God forgives, Lance.”
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