Book Read Free

A Woman's Revenge

Page 16

by Sherri L. Lewis


  He laughed. I failed to see the humor.

  “Ten-thirty in the morning,” he clarified.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little stupid for jumping to the conclusion that he just wanted to bed me without even having the decency to bread me. Bread and Bed is when a man at least spends some money—dough, bread—on a chick, or breaks bread with her—buys her a meal— before he tries to get some. Not that I was the type of girl who lowered myself to those standards . . . all the time. Hey, just being honest here. Don’t judge me.

  “So, is ten-thirty in the A.M. okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, sure,” I replied. “It’s a date.”

  We ended the call and I immediately ran to my closet to start figuring out what I was going to wear.

  “Dang, I should have asked him where we were going,” I realized, clueless as to how I should dress. I assumed he must have been taking me to breakfast. Where else could we possibly be going at ten-thirty in the morning? After picking out my outfit I immediately got on my treadmill and then did crunches. It was as if I could lose the ten pounds I had been telling myself for months I was going to lose prior to my date the next day. After an hour on the tread and several ridiculous sets of crunches, I came to the conclusion that I’d have no such luck and decided to settle in for the night . . . with a pizza from Domino’s. Hey, I’d eat a light breakfast.

  The next morning I was ready for my official first date with Lee. It was mid-July in Reynoldsburg, Ohio, so even at ten-thirty in the morning it was warm enough for me to rock my strapless sundress. It was a little short for what I’d normally wear, but I knew I just had to have it from the moment I saw that model wearing it in the catalog I ordered it from. It was the perfect dress to show off the tattoo of a black butterfly I had on my left shoulder. I’d gotten it done on a trip to Atlanta with Trina and a couple of my other girls. It was done by the same tattoo artist who did Tupac’s BALLIN tattoo.

  I decided on some gold metallic sandals that matched perfectly with my oversized gold hoop earrings and my knockoff Versace bag I’d bought in New York. Being five foot and nine inches tall, I felt modelistic to say the least. My naturally curly hair rested on my brown-skinned shoulders. I had my hair pushed back with a pair of Versace shades I’d picked up in Vegas. Those were real.

  At first I decided to go light on the makeup, figuring, it’s just a morning breakfast. It’s not like we’re going out to a club or anything. But then I thought about the fact that Lee might want to spend the entire day with me. What if we went to a movie or something afterward or over one of his friend’s house? I decided to go a little bit heavier on the makeup, even using my mascara to blot on a fake Marilyn Monroe sexy mole above my upper lip.

  “Purrrrrrr,” I teased myself, clawing the mirror like Catwoman. It was on and poppin’!

  My phone rang just as I put my makeup away. “Hello,” I answered.

  “Music to my ears, literally.” Lee’s voice took morning glory to a whole new meaning.

  “Good morning, sir,” I cheesed through the phone.

  “I love the sound of your smile.”

  How did he know? I had to pull the phone away from my ear and look at it. Could he see this big smile on my face through the phone?

  “Hey, I just pulled up in your driveway,” he informed me.

  “Oh, and you didn’t get lost.” I was impressed.

  “You gave me good directions.”

  “I love a man who knows how to take good direction.”

  “I love a woman who knows how to give them.”

  “Don’t you think we’re just a tad bit too early in this relationship to be using the L word?” I teased.

  “When it’s love at first sight, it’s love at first sight,” I joked. “I guess in your case, though, it would have to be love at second sight, considering you saw me once at Satin Saturday’s and then a second time at Kroger.”

  “Hmmm, I thought we were on even playing grounds,” Lee said. “I’m almost certain you saw me that Saturday too. Or do you always speak to strangers?”

  He had me stumped. No way had I spoken to that man and didn’t try to take it a step further. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. “You’re the guy in the red suit who Trina said I was going to kick myself for blowing off.”

  “I don’t know about all that. But I do remember the moment you stepped through the doors and walked in the place. I waved and said ‘hello.’ You—”

  “Had to pee like a race horse and dashed right by you, giving you nothing more than a wave and a ‘Hey.’” I remembered it clearly now. Only he was a blur. All I could recall seeing was dark skin, a blur of red, and a hand waving. I heard someone greet me and figured it was the blur in the red suit.

  I’d held my pee in that long line to get inside Satin Saturday’s and thought I was going to bust if I didn’t run straight to the toilet. After I’d finished my business and come out of the stall to wash my hands, all I remember Trina saying was:

  “Girl, are you crazy? How you just gon’ blow off the finest guy up in this place? In the city? He must not be from here, because Lord knows I would have remembered seeing his fine self before. Girl, you better dry your hands and go out there, repent—to him, the Lord, or whoever it takes—and get his number.” Trina was talking a mile a minute like her life depended on it.

  “Heck, why don’t you go out there and get him if it’s like that?” I replied, drying my hands.

  “’Cause it’s you he wants, not me.” She hit me on the shoulder. “Did you see the way he said hello to you? It was like you were the only woman up in here. Like you were the only woman in the world. Musik, you said as soon as you meet Mr. Right you were going to settle down, get married, and have babies. Well, your Mr. Right is right out there. Right now. So go, go, go!”

  Trina practically pushed me out of the bathroom door with her melodramatic self. She brushed by me, snatching up my hand, and dragging me back over near the entrance where the red blur once was.

  I heard Trina’s heels screech, nearly peeling off the wood from the floor. “He’s gone. He’s gone.”

  I thought she was about to cry. I couldn’t help but laugh. “T, it’s not that serious.”

  “Oh, but it was.” After a couple of seconds her frown turned upside down. “Hey, the night’s still young. We have plenty of time to find him.” Once again she yanked my hand. I put all my weight down and kept her from pulling me another step.

  “Look, I came here to kick it and have fun, not hunt down some strange dude. I ain’t all that, but I look good enough not to have to stalk men. So if I see him again . . . fine, if not, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Trina huffed, but had no choice but to agree. We enjoyed the night, even with her looking over her shoulder and around the room every five minutes for the mystery man. We never ran into him again that night.

  “Oh well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” Trina said once the event had ended and we were out in the car about to pull off.

  I suddenly let out a chuckle while saying, “I guess it was meant to be.”

  “Pardon me?”

  Had I really said that out loud? I’d forgotten all about the fact that I was even on the phone with Lee.

  “Oh, uh, nothing. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize for blowing me off. You’re making it up to me now. So bring your lovely self outside before we’re late.”

  “I’m on my way out.” I ended the call and got all giddy and bubbly inside. He’d said to hurry up before we were late. That meant that wherever he was taking me to breakfast we had to have a reservation. “Geesh, I hope I’m dressed right. I should have worn something else,” I said, having no idea what an understatement that was when thirty minutes later I found myself sitting inside the sanctuary of Brighton Road Seventh Day Adventist Church in Columbus, Ohio, with my date, Deacon Lee Royce Hampton.

  Chapter Two

  Eggs Anyone?

  The evil thoughts I was thinking during praise and worship
were surely to guarantee me a ticket straight to hell, as if that night in Cancun a couple years earlier hadn’t already sealed the fate of my eternal destination anyway. But I was thinking of some evil, ugly things right about now. I mean, how could this fine man who looked more like a delicious Dunkin’ Donut than a devout deacon trick me into going to church? Now that’s what was evil.

  I looked up at Lee, who was standing and clapping his hands to some song the choir was singing about the glory of the Lord. He looked down at me, all smiles. I rolled my eyes so hard, I’m surprised they really didn’t get stuck like my Ga-Ga used to warn me they would. My obvious attitude had no effect on Lee as he simply kept the smile on his face and turned his attention back to praise and worship.

  I let out a harrumph that nobody could hear over that dang on drummer, who by the way was going to work on that drum set. I should be ashamed to admit that the drummer in a church was kind of like the DJ at the club. They seemed to hold the power of whether or not folks were going to get up and get their groove on. Or, in case of church, get their Holy Ghost on. The boom, boom, boom did kind of make me want to get on my feet as well, but that was not about to happen. My dress was so short that I just knew Sister So-and-so behind me was going to be pointing fingers and whispering to the person on the pew next to her about the way I was dressed.

  I looked down at my strapless, too-short sundress. Instead of looking like someone ready to join the Kingdom, I looked like I was pledging for Hoochie-Phi-Hoochie. Oooooh, I was going to get that Lee. He had me up in here looking like a fool. Nobody made Musik Jalice Carter look like a fool except for herself, and that was only after a couple shots of tequila. Since Mr. Deacon Hampton wanted to play games and try to play me, he would get his. Oh, yes, I would spend the rest of my days if need be getting my revenge for this one.

  “No weapon formed against me shall prosper . . . Vengeance is mine thus sayeth the Lord.” Those were the words to the next song the choir sang. How timely, right?

  About one minute into the song my hand subconsciously began to tap my leg. After another two minutes my upper body began to sway. Three minutes in, my eyes would stay closed for a long period of time and my head would uncontrollably nod in agreement with the lyrics. Four minutes in, I found myself standing on my feet next to Lee, and I couldn’t care less if the people behind me could see where my skin on the back of my legs starts to darken the closer it got to my buttocks. I wonder why white people’s butts don’t get about two to three shades darker than their natural skin complexion like some black people’s do. Did my mind really just wander off like that?

  Five minutes into the song, my eyes were watering and I needed the choir to wrap this thing up before I smudged my Mary Kay mascara all over my eyes. I knew I should have gotten the waterproof kind. My emotions were just taking over, and all from a song; a song that was about to have me bawling like a baby. Why wouldn’t this song just end already? I know I heard that song one Sunday morning on the radio during the four-hour time slot my favorite station plays gospel music. I’m more than certain that song was not this dang long.

  Another minute and I honestly didn’t even want the song to ever end. It took me to a place—a foreign land I knew nothing about—but I wasn’t scared. All of a sudden I knew the language and the people welcomed me with opened arms. I felt loved. I felt joy, happiness, and peace. It was an indescribable feeling that I didn’t want to go away. But then the song faded out and I opened my eyes to discover that my hands were lifted up in the air. I quickly put them down and then looked over to see if Lee had noticed. Heck, for a minute there I had forgotten that Lee was even standing there next to me. I’d forgotten anyone was in the room with me. It felt like it was just me and . . . me and . . . Jesus?

  He was standing there with like this light around him or something. No, not Jesus—Lee. His hands were lifted, his head was bowed, and tears were streaming down his face. And he was . . . naked!

  Let’s just be honest, I was no Mary the Virgin. I’d seen a few naked men in my day. But Lee was the first man I had ever seen naked that was fully dressed. He had stripped himself of everything who he was and only God’s light shown on him. It was incredible.

  See, God and Jesus was not a tangible thing to me, but Lee was. Right there at that minute I got it. I got the fact that God was using something that was tangible in a nonbeliever’s life to show Himself. I saw the God in Lee. Not his hot bod, pretty white teeth, skin that looked like the outer layer of a Reese’s Cup that I just wanted to lick and . . . Okay, you get what I’m saying. I didn’t see any of those things. All I saw was the God in him. And that was far more attractive than anything else about him.

  In spite of how I might have felt a few minutes ago, right now I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Not only had I just met one man who I could see being in my life forever, but I’d met Lee as well. Jesus and Lee—what more could I ask for?

  “Those songs were beautiful. I mean, that choir is . . . is . . . What’s the word?” I tried to search for the right words.

  “Anointed,” Lee said as he sat across the restaurant table from me, taking a bite of his baked chicken.

  “Yeah, anointed.”

  When I went to Mexico I got a book that taught me a little bit of Mexican and Spanish. When I went to Italy I got a book that taught me a little bit of Italian. For Canada, some French. I’d have to visit Amazon.com like ASAP to see if they had a book on how to speak “church.”

  “That choir was anointed. And that drummer . . . Shelia E. will always be my favorite, but he’s a great runner-up. But when ol’ girl came out and interpreted every single word of that song with her body and facial expressions, I said look out Destiny’s Child. Not one of them four girls got a thing on whatever that stuff ol’ girl was doing.”

  “Liturgical dance,” Lee contributed. I think I saw him try to hide a smile that had cracked across his lips. I couldn’t tell though because he put his head down and put a bite of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

  “Well, whatever it was, it was beautiful. While you were talking to a couple of your church brothers after service, I even went over to her and told her how much I enjoyed her dance. How much she . . . blessed me.” Hey, one point for me. I was certain that was church talk. “But that preacher,” I continued, shaking my head, and let out an “Umpf, umpf, umpf.”

  “Yes, Pastor Washington is an awesome man of God,” Lee said.

  “Could have fooled me. I thought he was God for a minute the way he was talking to me. I swear some of those things he was saying about and to me, I thought only God Himself knew.”

  “He’s no God—just always in God’s face. Therefore God knows what to place in the earthly vessel’s spirit to deliver to His people.” He took a swig of his soda and then added, “God must have known you were going to be there this morning.”

  “Yeah, He must have.” I lifted a forkful of salad to my lips but then halted before placing the greenery in my mouth. I realized that I’d been talking so much—talked on the ride over to the buffet, talked during the buffet line, and now was talking during lunch—that I had forgotten all about giving Lee the business about having me up in church in the first place. “It would have been nice, though, had I known I was going to be there this morning.”

  Lee’s drink must have gone down the wrong pipe because he started choking.

  “And I ain’t gonna save your slick self either. You sit right there and choke to death. Serves you right for setting me up like that.”

  Lee cleared his throat and then wiped his mouth. “What?” He shrugged his shoulders and tried his best to hide the smirk that was dying to split his beautiful lips apart. Okay, so we weren’t in church anymore. My flesh was still in control and one day in church wasn’t going to change that.

  “What? What—the fact that we talked on the phone for hours and you didn’t mention anything about you being a church boy. You’re a dang deacon, Lee. Then you butter me all up for a date, not even mentioning you we
re taking me to church.”

  “Ahhh, church was just a pit stop,” he downplayed it. “This is the real date.” He winked.

  “Don’t even try it,” I scolded playfully, pointing my fork at him and giving him the evil eye. “You know darn well you could have told me how I needed to dress. You let me walk out of the house and flop down into your car wearing next to nothing knowing we were going to the house of the Lord. Do you know how incredibly awkward and embarrassed I felt with all eyes on me?”

  Lee stopped and looked at me like I was crazy. “You know darn well folks were not eyeballing you crazy or anything like that.”

  He was right. Not a single member looked at me sideways. Not one that I noticed anyway. I might as well have been wearing a choir robe for all they cared.

  “Girl, you fine and all,” Lee said, looking me up and down, “but not finer than Jesus. Trust me, up in my church, Jesus is Lord. All eyes are on Jesus—not on man.”

  “What about on woman? After all, you took your eyes off Jesus long enough to notice me,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, I did. Didn’t I?” He took a bite of his chicken, giving me the eye the entire time.

  Even though we were making light of the situation, a part of me was still a bit perturbed that Lee had failed to mention anything about him being a deacon or our date being going to his church. I was curious. Maybe concerned was the word. So instead of letting it sit inside, us fall madly in love, get married, start a family, and a part of me wonder if this was all real, making me one angry black woman if it wasn’t, I figured I’d better find out now. “Did you use me? Was this whole thing real?”

  Lee looked as confused as all get-out. “Is what real?”

  “You. Me. Us. Whatever we are going to maybe end up being. Or were you just trying to get a notch on your halo, or earn a halo, or whatever you Christians do when you try to get people to join church, get saved, or whatever?” I shooed my hand, tired of straining my brain on finding the right church words to use so he would understand what I was trying to say.

 

‹ Prev