The First Lady

by Carl Weber

  So, my mind was already working on overdrive as I tried to sort through my conflicted emotions. And then, just to complicate matters, I saw Marlene in a way I hadn’t seen her for years. She had taken a shower and was headed down the hallway to her bedroom, wrapped in a towel. Just as she passed my bedroom door, the towel slipped, and I got a full view of her rather nice backside. Since she’d stopped using drugs and started eating regularly again, Ms. Hernandez had developed quite the derriere. I tried to purge the image from my mind, but it only served to dredge up memories of the days when Marlene and I were a couple, in those early years, when I lost my virginity and her body became my playground. She was my first love, and those early sexual experiences are something a man can never forget. For a preacher, this is a hard thing to confess, but I’d been lying in bed, aroused, ever since Marlene dropped the towel.

  I said a quick prayer to ask God’s forgiveness for my lustful thoughts, over which I seemed to have no control. Mercifully, I drifted off to sleep not long after I said, “Amen.”

  I soon felt something rubbing against my leg. What the—? I turned over, and the sight of Marlene lying there made me bolt upright, immediately wide awake. Marlene lay on her side, facing the wall, giving me the same view of her naked behind that I’d seen earlier.

  “Thomas Kelly?” she murmured in a sleepy voice as she turned over to face me, a smile glazing her lips.

  “Marlene? What are you doing in my bed?”

  “Shhh.” She placed an index finger against my lips, and in one smooth motion, she grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me on top of her. Even if I had words to speak, she didn’t give them a chance to come out of my mouth as her lips connected with mine.

  “Mmm,” Marlene moaned, reaching her hand down between us. I knew this was wrong, but my body was responding just the way she wanted. She took hold of my solid manhood and placed it inside of her.

  “Marlene …” I heard a moan escape from my throat. “We can’t do this.”

  “Don’t stop, Thomas Kelly. Please don’t stop,” Marlene pleaded, though I didn’t need much convincing. I thrust my hips and she returned the motion. “Ohhhh, this feels so good. Thomas Kelly, you’ve taken the drugs away. Now I need you to be my drug.”

  Once again, her tongue entered my mouth and we shared a wonderful, passionate kiss. I lifted my head to gaze into her eyes while we made love, but the vision before me was so startling that I felt my body freeze in midthrust.

  “Huh? Monique?” I squeezed my eyes shut as if that could erase the vision, but when I opened them slowly, it was still Monique smiling up at me.

  “Yes, T.K., it’s me.” Monique stroked her hands down my back. I reached out to touch her. “Who’d you think it was, Lisa Mae?”

  “No, I thought it was—”

  She pulled my head toward her. When I felt her soft lips against mine, it sent a spark of recognition to my midsection and I was instantly hard again. There was no way I could forget the fervent kisses Monique and I had shared the first time we made love and no way my body could not respond.

  “I love you, T.K.,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “It feels so good that I could cry.” She pushed me gently off of her, then rolled on top.

  I enjoyed the view of her hair, loose and flowing, brushing against my chest as she lowered her head and rode me passionately. After a long, deep stroke, she threw her head back and sat up, still straddling my hips.

  This can’t be happening, I told myself as I stared in disbelief at the woman before me. “Lisa Mae?”

  “Yes, T.K.,” she said, slowly gyrating her hips. “That’s it. Now say my name.”

  Before I knew it, my hands were entwined in her beautiful curls. “You’re wearing your hair down,” I said in awe. I had never seen Lisa Mae looking so relaxed. She flung her head back down and allowed her strands to tickle my face and shoulders, then in a sensual rhythm, she lifted her head again.

  “Savannah!” I shouted as I watched her rocking on top of me. “Savannah!” I called out once again, pushing her off me. “I can’t do this with you.”

  The room started spinning and everything became a blur. I rubbed my eyes, and when I opened them to try to focus, that’s when I saw all four of them: Savannah, Monique, Lisa Mae, and Marlene. They were sitting on my bed, each wearing a wedding dress and staring at me with pleading eyes.

  I looked to Savannah first.

  “Bishop,” Savannah spoke, “you’ve been my mentor. You’ve believed in me even when I didn’t. I love you, Bishop. Can’t you see that?”

  “But T.K.,” Monique said as I turned to her. “You’ve shown me for the first time in my life what real love is. You accepted me just for me, for what I was and for what I wasn’t. I love you, T.K. I love you.”

  Next it was Lisa Mae whose lips parted to speak. “You are the most perfect bishop. I appreciate that about you more than anybody. And with my appreciation comes an understanding and desire to serve God alongside you. T.K., I’ve shown you that I am the perfect first lady. Together we make the perfect team. Will you marry me?”

  Knowing Marlene would have something to say next, I allowed my eyes to rest on her. “T.K.,” she said, “we share a child. We share a grandchild. We have a history. You’ve accepted me into your present life. It’s only natural that we should share our futures.”

  “What are you all doing here? Why are you here?”

  “You know why we’re here, Bishop,” Savannah stated.

  “Yes, T.K.,” Monique said. “You know why.”

  They all sat quietly, a desperate desire heavy in the air. I felt as though a clock were ticking and a bomb was designated to go off any minute now.

  “No,” I said to them. “I can’t do this.” I turned toward the door, wanting to run away, but my muscles wouldn’t move. As I sat helplessly immobile, the door opened.

  “T.K., you can’t run from this,” Charlene said when she appeared in the doorway. “You know what you have to do, T.K.”

  “Honey?” I looked at the vision of my dead wife, feeling like some sort of Ebenezer Scrooge surrounded by ghostly apparitions. “Is that you? Are you really there?”

  “Yes, T.K., it’s me, and I’m here to tell you that you have to make your choice. You have to make your choice now. These four women need to go on with their lives, one of them spending the rest of her life with you. T.K., one of those four is the woman you should be with.”

  “But, Charlene, I love them all,” I told her. “Each one has something that makes her special, and it’s that something special that makes me love each of them.”

  “You have a big heart, T.K. That’s what I loved about you so much. You can find something to love about everybody.”

  “That’s what makes this so hard,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m afraid of making the wrong choice.”

  “You’re not afraid of making the wrong choice; you’re afraid of making any choice. Remember, T.K., I was your wife for a long time. I know your heart. You’re having a hard time choosing someone because you’re afraid to let go of me. But I know Alison gave you my last letter, and you’ve read it. You know how I feel. I love you with all my heart, and I have faith that we will be together again someday, but now, First Jamaica Ministries needs a new first lady, and you need someone to take care of you. It’s time for you to move on with your life. Choose one of these women to be your wife.”

  Charlene came closer to me and held out her closed fist. Instinctively, I knew she was coming to give me something, so I put out my hand to receive it. Her fingers uncurled, and I saw in her palm the wedding ring I had given her so many years before. She dropped the ring into my hand and said, “It’s time to make a choice.” Then she bent down, and our lips met in one last kiss that was so familiar and comforting.

  The next thing I knew, I was sitting up in my bed in a cold sweat, my heart racing uncontrollably. My eyes quickly darted around the room, half expecting to see the women still sitting there. The dream had se
emed so real.

  The bed was soaked with sweat. I threw the covers off me, then turned and placed my feet on the ground. I looked up at the clock, which read 1:00 a.m. It had only been two short hours since I fell asleep, but it felt as if I had relived my whole lifetime with Charlene. My love for her was stronger than ever, but I felt a peace come over me as I realized I should move on, and even more importantly, that I could move on.

  With a shaking hand, I picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialed James’s phone number.

  “Hello,” he answered groggily.

  “James,” I said without apologizing for the lateness of the call. “I think I’ve made my decision.”

  “Decision about what?” he asked.

  “The decision about who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. I know the woman I want to marry. I want you to meet me tomorrow morning to go shopping for a ring. I know who’s going to be the next first lady.”

  37

  THE PROPOSAL

  The monthly membership meeting was more crowded than usual. Bishop T.K. Wilson made sure of that when he personally called every prominent member of First Jamaica Ministries to make sure they’d be in attendance. They, in turn, called their closest friends to urge them to be there as well. This type of fanfare before a meeting was rare, and speculation ran rampant throughout the congregation about what the bishop had planned. Among those Bishop Wilson had personally requested to be at the meeting were Marlene, Monique, Savannah, and Lisa Mae, all of whom now sat anxiously, awaiting the bishop’s arrival.

  Each woman sat whispering to her loved ones—well, all of them except Monique. She didn’t have friends or family who attended First Jamaica Ministries. Sure, she had been receiving a warmer welcome at Sunday services now that she was dressing more conservatively and trying harder to blend in with the crowd, but she hadn’t yet made the leap to any true friendship. So, she sat in the front row, flipping through a pocket calendar, trying to distract herself from her loneliness. She wondered what was so important that the bishop had phoned her to ensure she didn’t miss this meeting.

  Perhaps he wants to announce to the members the upcoming grand opening of my new Christian bookstore, she thought hopefully. That would be so like T.K. to want the congregation to support me. They had been speaking quite frequently ever since their reunion at lunch, and T.K. was one hundred percent behind her decision to open the store. Monique was eager to get the business up and running so she could spend even more time with the bishop.

  Deacon Joe Dickens rambled in Savannah’s ear about his speculations. Of course, he hoped that whatever the bishop had in store would mean good things for the deacon’s own standing in the church, perhaps the powerful alliance he had wanted from the beginning. He talked to Savannah about how happy he was that she seemed to be visiting the bishop’s office pretty regularly now, but Savannah just sat quietly. She wondered how her father would react if he knew that the bishop had never once made any romantic overtures toward her, even after all this time. Would he see it as a failure on her part? Probably, she decided, for that always seemed to be the case when things didn’t go the way he wanted. But Savannah had grown stronger in recent months and knew she could weather her father’s disappointment if the bishop announced something Deacon Dickens didn’t like.

  Aubrey, who had returned from his sister’s house in D.C. and spent a couple of nights with Marlene at the bishop’s house, had his arm around his mother. She was thrilled to have him with her at the meeting because she was sure the bishop was about to publicly recognize her great strides toward recovery. She had come so far that she was ready for the next phase; she would be moving into her own place again soon.

  Lisa Mae and Loretta also felt certain they knew what the bishop was ready to announce to this large crowd. This was it—the big day when Bishop would finally propose. With Loretta’s help, Lisa Mae had successfully weathered the latest storm and controlled her anger over his recently repaired friendship with Sister Monique. Oh, she had her suspicions about why the friendship had ceased for a while, and she knew she would have to keep an eye on Sister Monique now that she was buzzing around again, but Loretta convinced her that it was best to be patient. The bishop was close to a proposal, they felt, and once she became first lady, Lisa Mae could do whatever she had to do to get rid of Sister Monique.

  Loretta was relieved that Lisa Mae would soon be wearing an engagement ring. She was getting tired of being her friend’s conscience whenever her temper threatened to get the best of her. In the meantime, Lisa Mae believed she well deserved the upcoming proposal. Not only had she been the model girlfriend, but she had also repeatedly exemplified the makings of the first lady that the church members were hoping for. This would be a day of celebration for everyone, Lisa Mae thought. Then she caught sight of the women who had been her competition.

  Well, maybe not everyone will be celebrating, but I sure will.

  Bishop Wilson walked in, and the room hushed in an instant. He stood on the platform in front of the microphone and looked out over the crowd. The place was standing room only, just as he had hoped. Still, the fact that all eyes were on him as he prepared to make this monumental announcement made him even more nervous than he’d been. He gathered his thoughts, steadying his hands on the podium to stop their trembling, then cleared his throat and broke the silence.

  “I’m glad everybody came out this evening,” he said. “It seems all those whom I stressed to be in attendance have made it, and this is good. I have a lot of important things to say—personal things, in fact. And I want to share them with you all.”

  Bishop waited a few moments as he listened to the murmuring that passed over the crowd. No doubt, the members in the audience were again discussing their speculation, even more energized now that he had admitted his announcement was of a personal nature. He looked around the room, then set eyes on Savannah. A big grin appeared on Deacon Dickens’s face, but Savannah avoided the bishop’s gaze, staring straight ahead, afraid to even wonder what might be about to happen.

  Bishop Wilson began. “First, brothers and sisters, I’d like to take this opportunity to bring something to your attention. We’ve got a star among us.” He directed his smile at Savannah and said, “Sister Dickens, please stand up.” She was embarrassed by the attention and was confused, but did as the bishop asked.

  “How many of you knew Sister Dickens dreamed of becoming a gospel recording star?” The room was silent. People looked around at one another, raising eyebrows and shrugging shoulders. Savannah imagined that her father, sitting beside her, would be rolling his eyes right about now. “I feel we, as brothers and sisters in Christ, need to care more about one another. Fellowship. That’s what I’m trying to say. It only takes a few minutes after Sunday service or Bible study to shake a few hands and find out what’s going on in some of our members’ lives.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a CD. Savannah’s eyes grew big. “What I hold in my hand is an out standing

  gospel CD, recorded by none other than our very own Sister Savannah Dickens.” Oohs and ahs filled the room, and a few members began to clap.

  “Hold on now,” Bishop said, holding up his hand. “I think you should applaud, but before you do, let me add that I feel we should acknowledge her wonderful father, Deacon Joe Dickens. He’s done a fine job with Savannah, and I imagine it would’ve been difficult for her to live out her dream without him around. Deacon, you should be proud. Not many of our children dare to dream, but Savannah did. And not only did she dream, but she also set out for achievement. And here is the end result. Move over, Yolanda Adams, because Savannah Dickens is about to give you some serious competition when her CD is released under the United Gospel Recording label.” Bishop shook the CD in the air. “Deacon, stand proudly next to your daughter so we can all give you a hand.”

  The room burst with enthusiastic applause. Deacon Joe stood and hugged Savannah tightly as the members jumped to their feet, and the applause re
ached a crescendo. Deacon had a new sense of pride as he sat down next to his daughter. Several members reached from behind him to pat him on the back. This was truly a time for him to sit up straight and square his shoulders. Savannah held on to her father’s arm, then gave the bishop a wink. Bishop smiled back at the woman whom he had come to love with a fatherly affection.

  When the crowd settled down, Bishop continued. “Next, I’d like to address my best friend of over thirty years—Marlene Hernandez.” Bishop looked directly at Marlene as he spoke. She sat tall and proud in her chair, her son’s hand clasped lovingly in hers. “I don’t think I know a stronger woman. Talk about trials and tribulations … mmm, mmm, mmm. Sister Hernandez has had many. She endured them all, shaping herself into the highly favored woman she is today.”

  He shifted his gaze to look out at the crowd. “Brothers and sisters, if you don’t know that God has a plan when it comes to your life, I think you better ask Sister Hernandez, because I believe she knows it better than any of us. Some of us can’t relate to the pain and the struggle Sister Hernandez has gone through. But for those who can, God has fixed it so she can be an instrument to guide them back on the right path.” A few amens were thrown around as Bishop continued to speak.

  He turned his attention back to Marlene. “Sister Hernandez, I love you … and you know I love you. In fact, you know now that God loves you.” Marlene nodded and stroked Aubrey’s arm as she listened. “Thank you for your request to start and head a drug intervention program here at First Jamaica Ministries. When I took the idea to the board of trustees, the decision was unanimous to go forth with it. We can’t think of a better person than you. God bless you.” Everyone applauded while Marlene shed a few tears of joy.