Jonathan sighed. “Angela isn’t just someone. I really care for her and it’s going to be so embarrassing for her to walk around pregnant and not married.”
“Embarrassed? Who the hell cares about her being embarrassed? And if she’s that damn embarrassed, tell her don’t have it.”
Jonathan knew Kevin wouldn’t understand what he was going through. Angela was held in high regard at the church. It would really affect her to have people talking about her having an illegitimate child, but not nearly as much as having to endure an abortion.
“I told you, man, she doesn’t believe in abortions,” Jonathan said.
“Well, dog, I don’t know what to tell you on that one.” Kevin patted his chest. “I know, ain’t no woman tying the big man down until I’m good and ready. And even then, I don’t know if I’ll be able to be faithful until death do me part.”
“It seems real easy for my dad. And he has women throwing themselves at him.”
“You know some of them church women are the freakiest ones of all.” Kevin leaned in. “You really think your dad ain’t hit on none of them?”
“Naw, man, I really don’t think so. The way those women treat my mother, they’d probably love to throw something like that in her face. My father ain’t having that.”
“See, that’s why I couldn’t be no minister. I’d be trying to get my freak on in the choir stand.”
Jonathan laughed. Kevin wasn’t lying.
“I’d probably get shot by one of the deacons for sticking this snake in his daughter,” Kevin said, grabbing his crotch.
Jonathan shook his head at his friend. “That’s why you haven’t been called to preach.”
Kevin’s smile turned serious. “What about you? Does your dad think you still want to be a preacher?”
Besides Tracy, Kevin was the only person who knew Jonathan didn’t want to be a preacher. But he didn’t know the real reason. “You know I can’t tell him that.”
“So why are you so adamant about not being a minister and all now? Besides the fact that you’re a closet stud?”
“I just don’t think that’s my calling is all.”
Kevin shrugged. “Whatever you say. I just know if you do become a minister, I can’t be hanging with you no more. You’d cramp my style.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that.” Jonathan had all but ruled that out, even though he’d yet to tell his father. He figured if he stayed with Angela, his father would never have to know about his relationship with Tracy. Sure, he’d be disappointed about Jonathan fathering a baby out of wedlock, but nowhere as much as he’d be if he knew his youngest son was gay.
Kevin eyed the clock. “Hey, I don’t mean to rush you. But I got some honeys coming over tonight and I’m not in the mood to share.”
“Honeys, as in plural?”
“Yep. Kashanna and Dayanna. Twins, baby!”
Jonathan shook his head at his friend. The sad part was society would more easily accept Kevin’s behavior than his monogamous relationship with Tracy. Jonathan stood up and began making his way toward the door. “I’ll leave you with your twins. I got some things I need to work out in my head anyway.”
“Well, give me a call if you need to talk. In the morning, that is.” Kevin grinned.
Simon was sitting at the kitchen table poring over some scripture notes. Jonathan stood silently behind him for a few minutes, trying to gather up his nerve.
“Hey, Dad.”
Simon looked up and smiled. “Hey, son. What’s shaking?”
“Dad, no one says ‘what’s shaking’ anymore,” Jonathan said, pulling out a chair and taking a seat next to his father.
“Excuse me. I’m not up on today’s lingo.” Simon closed his Bible, set his pen down, and removed his reading glasses. “I’m glad you came in. I needed a break.” He leaned back, folding his arms in front of him. “I just wanted to tell you how happy I am to see you and Angela back together. That’s a sweet girl if I ever saw one. Have I ever told you how much I like her?”
“Only a thousand times.”
“Well, I hope you’re serious about her. Because she’s just the type of woman a good preacher needs by his side.”
Jonathan knew that now was a perfect time for him to tell his father about his decision not to be a preacher, but that was not what he had come here for. Besides, since he was pursuing a future with Angela, maybe he could still have a career in the ministry. The only reason he was deciding against it was because he knew if he chose a gay lifestyle, being a minister was out of the question.
“Dad, I wanted to talk to you about Angela.”
“Talk away.”
“She’s pregnant.”
Simon sat in stunned silence, his arms across his chest, his glasses dangling from his hand.
“Say something,” Jonathan said.
“What do you want me to say? That I’m happy for you?” Simon asked, a stern expression across his face. Jonathan lowered his eyes, like he had just been chastised.
“Look, Son,” Simon continued, finally unfolding his arms and leaning forward. “I can’t lie and say I’m not disappointed, but we all make mistakes. I know you’ll do right by that girl and give that child a name. So, I won’t judge you.”
That was not quite the reaction Jonathan expected. His father didn’t seem upset at all.
“Of course, I didn’t want it to be like this,” Simon continued. “But I guess I got my wish about having Angela in the family after all. She’ll make a good wife.” Simon put his glasses back on, opened his Bible back up, and resumed writing like the discussion was closed.
Jonathan didn’t reply. As usual, his father had decided how his life would turn out.
27
DON’T DO IT. Rachel heard the little voice in her head. The one that always tried to keep her out of trouble. The voice of reason. The one that she usually ignored.
Rachel looked at Bobby and Shante’s wedding program that she had swiped from inside her father’s Bible a week ago. She had the whole thing memorized, including the names of all the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, even the musician.
Rachel looked at the black line drawn through Shante’s name. Above it she had written her own. She knew if anyone saw the program, they would think she was crazy, but she wasn’t. She was just in pain and imagining what could have been.
I’ve got something that can make you feel better, too. There went that little voice again. Rachel had been fighting it all afternoon. As usual, she was sprawled out on the sofa at her parents’ house. Her electricity had been cut off for nonpayment, which was really trifling because for once she had the money to pay it. She just had been so depressed that she never made it down to the light company. Since it was Friday, she would have to wait until Monday to get it turned back on.
Just do it. The little voice was driving her crazy. For two days the idea to do more damage to Bobby and Shante had been haunting her. She was trying to heed her mother’s words to move on, but she wasn’t having any luck.
Rachel finally decided the only way to get the voice out of her head was to go forward with what it wanted. She threw back the afghan she’d been lying in and eased quietly off the sofa, making sure not to wake Nia at the other end. Jonathan had taken Jordan to the circus. They had tried to get Rachel to go, but Nia had an ear infection. Besides, Rachel was in no mood to sit up in a circus and act like everything was peachy-keen in her life.
Rachel made her way over to the telephone. She hesitated before punching in the 800-number.
“Good afternoon, Reliant Energy. This is Carla, may I help you?”
Rachel took a deep breath. No turning back now. “Um … yes, this is Shante Wilson, I mean Clark. I live at 25 Northwest 51st. And um, I need to have my electricity cut off. I just got married and we’re moving out.”
“Okay, Mrs. Clark. For security purposes, we’ll need your mother’s maiden name.”
Rachel smiled. Good thing Lethora Stewart-Wilson was a modern woman who u
sed a hyphenated name. “It’s Stewart.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clark. Is there an address you’d like this service moved to?”
“No, not right now. We’re staying with family. We’ll call back when we’re ready to get service hooked up again.”
“Mrs. Clark, we’ll get you all taken care of. Thank you for being a valued customer of Reliant. Have a great day.”
Rachel hung up the phone with a look of satisfaction across her face. She knew Bobby’s lease was up at the end of the month, so they were most likely staying at Shante’s condo. Now let them stay in the dark, Rachel thought.
Rachel decided not to stop there. She picked up the phone again and called information, asking for the number to the gas and phone companies.
She repeated the process for both places. She ran into a snag with the phone company because they wanted the last four digits of Shante’s Social Security number, which she didn’t know, but Rachel managed to convince them that she just couldn’t remember it. She gave them Lethora’s maiden name again and they seemed content with that.
Rachel relaxed in her father’s recliner. She was pleased with her handiwork and glad she had listened to that little voice. Granted, this would only be an inconvenience to them (a big one), but not a matter of life or death. It would, however, fulfill Rachel’s goal to piss off Shante.
“What are you sitting in here grinning about?” Loretta asked as she walked into the den. “What have you done now?”
Rachel looked at her mother standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She realized she was still holding on to the phone. She slammed it down in the cradle. “What are you talking about, Mama?”
“You’ve been walking around here depressed with your lips to the ground for the last week. Now, you’re sitting in here with an amused look across your face. So I repeat, what have you done now?”
Rachel let out a deep breath. “Mother, you underestimate me. Maybe I just realized it’s time to move on.”
“And maybe I’ve got some swampland in Florida to sell.” Loretta eyed Rachel suspiciously. “Come on in here and help me with these dishes.”
Rachel rubbed her stomach. “I don’t feel too good.”
Loretta threw her daughter a stern look. “Don’t debate me on this. I don’t ask you for much. You come over here to eat, drop your kids off, and wash your clothes. I never say a word, so the least you can do is help me with the dishes. Now come on.”
“But I have to watch Nia!”
“Girl, if you don’t get on in here. Nia is sound asleep.”
Rachel stomped behind her mother into the kitchen. “Why don’t you all get a dishwasher?” Rachel complained.
“We have one, you.”
“Where’s the almighty Reverend Jackson?” Rachel asked as she started running dishwater and stacking up the mounds of dishes from their dinner.
“He’s taking a nap. He has the revival at Greater St. John in about an hour.”
Rachel peered under the cabinet for some rubber gloves. She had just had her nails painted with little intricate designs, and didn’t want to risk them wearing off.
“Why do people have revivals on Friday nights anyway?” she asked as she put on the gloves, shut off the water, and started scrubbing a dish.
“Souls need saving seven days a week,” Loretta said. She was wiping down the stove.
The doorbell rang and Rachel seized the opportunity. “I’ll get it,” she said, racing out of the kitchen.
When she pulled back the little curtain on the door and saw the figures on the other side, her mood became sour again. Rachel snatched the door open.
“Hello, Miss Rachel.” Delilah spoke first, displaying a big fake grin. Carrie was standing next to her, looking innocent. Rachel couldn’t believe they had the audacity to show their faces at her mother’s home.
Delilah’s eyes made their way down to Rachel’s gloved hands. “Did we interrupt your domestic duties?”
Rachel’s attitude was written all over her face, and she didn’t care what they thought about it. Both of them looked taken aback by her cold demeanor. “May I help you?” she asked.
Delilah and Carrie glanced at each other with confused looks. Delilah shrugged her shoulders and turned back toward Rachel. “We’re here to see Simon, I mean, Reverend Jackson.”
“He’s asleep.” Rachel didn’t move from her spot.
Delilah held up a stack of papers. “Well, he wanted me to drop these scripture copies off for the revival tonight.”
“I’ll take them.” Rachel stuck her hand out.
Delilah grasped the papers close to her chest. “There’s some things on here I need to personally explain.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just tell me and I’ll tell him when he wakes up.” Her attitude was getting more intense.
“Rachel, let our guests in.” Loretta had walked up behind her daughter. Rachel turned around and her mouth dropped open. Her mother’s long, thick hair was down, hanging past her shoulders. Rachel hadn’t seen her mother wear her hair down in years. She always wore it pinned up tightly in a bun or a French roll. She had also taken off the apron that had become her domestic staple.
Rachel stepped aside and let the women pass.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Loretta said.
“Good afternoon to you,” Delilah responded. “I do love your hair like that.”
Carrie nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t realize it was that long. It looks good.”
Rachel felt like she was going to be sick.
“I was just telling Rachel I needed to get these papers to Reverend Jackson,” Delilah said. “And there are some things I needed to go over with him, because they didn’t quite come out the way he wanted them to.”
Rachel stared at Delilah’s outfit. As usual, her cleavage was showing. She also wore a skintight, leopard miniskirt. The woman had to be forty-five years old and still dressed like she was seventeen.
“Well, I’ll go wake Simon. I’m sure if he has any questions, he’d like them answered before the revival tonight.” Loretta turned toward her daughter. “Rachel, you can go finish what you were doing.”
“Thank you,” Delilah remarked.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Loretta went upstairs to wake Simon.
Rachel cut her eyes at the women before heading back down the hall. When she was out of sight, she stopped within earshot of their conversation. She knew she was eavesdropping as always, but she wanted to find out why they were really there.
“Did you check out Miss Thang’s hair?” Carrie whispered.
“Girl, yes. It don’t matter though. She still looks like somebody’s grandmother in that frumpy old housecoat.”
“She is,” Carrie said, laughing. “You know her scandalous daughter has all those babies.”
It took everything in Rachel’s power not to go back in there and give them a piece of her mind.
“And get a load of this house,” Delilah continued, rubbing her hand along the sofa. “She has it decorated like a funeral parlor. It’s horrible. This hard sofa, those old antiquated tables. I would be living large if I was the first lady.”
“But you’re not.”
Both women jumped up at the sight of Loretta. She had entered the living room through the kitchen entrance. Rachel broke out into a big smile. Her mother must have come down the back stairs that led to the kitchen. Loretta knew exactly what she was doing. Rachel had to see this up close. She stepped out from behind the door where she had been listening, walked into the living room, and leaned against the wall with a triumphant look across her face.
Loretta gently walked within inches of Delilah’s face. “You know, for years I have been listening to you degrade me, talk about me. I have watched your worthless attempts to steal my husband. And I have remained a true Christian, just turning the other cheek, because I have faith in my husband. You can consider yourself the most glamorous, sexiest diva there is. But the bottom line rema
ins. I still have what you want.” Loretta had a smooth, confident look across her face. Rachel had never been so impressed. Delilah, however, looked stunned.
“I am Mrs. Simon Jackson. I am the first lady of Zion Hill. You are nothing but a lonely, bitter, washed-up wannabe who cannot keep a man, and must therefore try to steal everyone else’s.”
Rachel wanted to give her mother a high five. She wished she were taping this. David and Jonathan would never believe it. Her mother was telling Delilah off with such dignity and class. Rachel knew that if it was her, she and Delilah would be rolling on the floor.
Loretta stood firm, not taking her eyes off of Delilah. “I’m about fed up with you. Therefore, I would advise you to begin looking for another job, because I will be speaking with my husband regarding your dismissal and finding someone with morals, values, and respect. And much to your dismay, I guarantee you, my feelings will come before yours. Now, if you would kindly hand over those papers and get the hell out of my house!”
With that, Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. She had never heard her mother curse. This was too much.
Delilah looked dumbfounded, but didn’t move.
“If you can’t find the door, my foot would be happy to help you,” Loretta said calmly.
Carrie took the papers from Delilah, threw them on the table, then grabbed Delilah’s arm. “We’ll be leaving now.”
She pulled Delilah toward the door. Rachel had raced over and pulled it wide open. The women scurried out without looking back.
Rachel closed the door and turned toward her mother. “Oh, my God, Mama. That was off the hook! I can’t believe you finally said something to them.”
Loretta looked at her daughter and smiled. “Even Christian women have their limits. Now let’s go finish the dishes.”
Rachel proudly beamed at her mother. “Gladly, Mama. Gladly.”
She draped her arm through her mother’s arm and led her back into the kitchen.
28
Let the Church Say Amen Page 15