A Preacher’s Passion

by Lutishia Lovely

  “This pizza’s good, huh?” Robin said distractedly, her untouched slice growing cold on the plate.

  “I’m not uh, uh, uh’ing about some meat and cheese, sistah. It’s about the…Robin? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

  Passion had been talking a mile a minute from the time Robin walked into her modest abode. Normally she wouldn’t be mentioning her desires to anyone, but with their shared childhood history, she felt comfortable talking to Robin. An added bonus was that Robin didn’t go to Logos Word, didn’t know Lavon, and was therefore one less woman she’d have to keep away from her blessing. But now, as she munched on her third slice of pizza, she studied her friend. Robin surely wasn’t the girl she’d known in Georgia, but who was the same person after twenty years? Robin always seemed, well, she didn’t want to say odd, but a bit different. It hadn’t bothered Passion in the past and she was determined not to let it affect her now. She was too busy floating on her own cloud to want potential rain from another. Still, she felt it her Christian duty to try and uplift her friend.

  She put down the pizza, took a long drink of soda, and leaned back against the back of the sofa. “Okay, girl, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Robin said much too quickly.

  “Girl, please. I may not have seen you for twenty years, but you’re still Robin and I’m still Passion. You’ve been in a mood since you walked in my house, when after all these years I thought we’d be having a ball reminiscing and everything. You might have kept to yourself back in the day but around me, you were never the quiet type. Talk to me.”

  “I fell in love too,” Robin said.

  Passion leaned forward and picked up her half-eaten slice. Was that all? She should have known Robin’s mood was about a man. “Is that what has you down? Man problems?”

  Robin nodded.

  “Well, girl, drop the dime and share the info. Are y’all fighting, did you break up, what?”

  Robin couldn’t think straight. A part of her wanted to share with Passion her story about Derrick but the other part was too paranoid to reveal any information. After all, Vivian may have been controlling Passion, just like she did all the others.

  “C’mon, Robin. It’s me you’re talking to.” Passion rested her hand on Robin’s arm until Robin looked at her. Something about her eyes isn’t right, Passion thought, even as she maintained the smile on her face.

  “Well,” Robin said. “I used to hang with this guy, years ago, and then a woman came between us. Now, I want him back. That’s the short version.”

  “Are he and this woman married?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Wait a minute, Robin. It’s a married man you’re after?”

  “Yeah, but he was mine!” Robin’s eyes narrowed, her breathing became rapid. She’d forgotten to take her Peridol and talking about Derrick increased her anxiety. “Where’s my damn pills?” she said to herself, as she ransacked her junk-filled bag.

  “What pills?” Passion felt a moment of real concern for her friend.

  Then, in an instant, Robin’s behavior changed. She calmed down and closed her purse. “No, just, uh, pills I take for migraines.” She held her forehead. “I’m having one now.”

  “Oh, hold on,” Passion said, rising from the couch. “I’ve got some prescription strength Tylenol. Let me get them.”

  “It’s okay,” Robin said. She grabbed her purse, rose from the couch, and headed toward the door. “Sorry, girl, but I’m going to have to cancel on the movie. I’m not feeling well.”

  Passion hugged Robin, told her she’d pray for her, and watched Robin get in her automobile. The car was old, rusted, and rattled loudly when Robin started it up. A billow of smoke followed as she drove away from the curb. Passion watched the smoke swirl into the air and then disappear, much like her desire to reconnect with her former best friend.

  11

  Too Late for Games

  As much as she was glad to see Robin again, Passion was relieved the afternoon had ended quickly. She was beginning to think that twenty years was too long a gap to take up where two friends had left off. Something had changed about Robin, something more than her hair color and dress size. She’d looked downright crazed when digging for her pills. Passion wondered just what kind of drugs her friend was using.

  She didn’t ponder the question long. Looking at her watch, she noted the day was fairly young and her daughter Onyx was with Passion’s parents. Her focus immediately turned to Lavon, and what he had planned for the evening. He’d been too busy to meet during the week; maybe he’d have some time tonight. Passion sat on the couch, opened her cell phone, and dialed the number already programmed into her speed dial.

  “Hello?” a familiar, deep voice asked.

  “Hey, Lavon, it’s me.”

  There was a slight hesitation before Lavon said, “Hi, me.”

  It was Passion’s turn to pause as she wondered just how many females were ringing Lavon’s number. She knew she wasn’t the only one. No matter; it was too early for her to be possessive and too late for games. “It’s Passion,” she said simply.

  “Passion! Ms. Passion Perfected, how are you?”

  “Better now,” Passion said with a smile. “And better still if I can talk an extremely busy, multitalented director/producer into taking a break and grabbing a bite to eat later on.”

  “We might be able to arrange something like that.” Lavon had dodged Passion all week while hanging with Carla almost twenty-four/seven. During the day, they planned and worked on Kingdom Keys. At night they’d worked on Carla’s kitty and Lavon’s snake. But Stanley had returned from out of town on Friday, bringing in a reality check along with his luggage. Lavon had said he wouldn’t get involved with anyone from Logos Word and what had happened? Not only had he gotten involved, he’d dived headlong, literally, into the feline charms of the first lady.

  The madness had to stop, and maybe this was the diversion to help that happen. “So where are we going, Passion Perfected? I’ve barely eaten all day.”

  Passion masked her giddiness and ignored her pizza-filled stomach. “Hey, why don’t you come over to my place? It’s probably been a while since you’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

  Lavon choked down a guffaw. That’s all he’d eaten was home-cooked food, and some of the best that had ever passed his knowledgeable lips. He felt he’d gained ten pounds. Plus, he wagered cooking wasn’t all Passion had on her mind, that maybe she wanted to try and live up to her name. Unfortunately for Passion, Carla had already taken care of that. The woman was insatiable.

  “Oh, no. A beautiful lady like you,” he said to appease, “needs to be wined, dined, and showed a good time. Let’s get dressed up, go for dinner and dancing. What do you say?”

  What could she say, except yes? Passion hadn’t been romanced in years. “I know just the place,” she said, mentally browsing her closet for the perfect outfit, and thanking her daughter’s grandparents that they’d taken her for the weekend. “Should I pick you up around seven?”

  “I’ve still got a few hours of work to do. Can we make it eight?”

  “Eight sounds perfect. See you then.”

  Several hours later, Lavon and Passion sat contentedly in a booth at the Lobster, a well-known seafood restaurant in Santa Monica. Dinner was good, the conversation, pleasant. Passion learned that Lavon was divorced, with a teenaged daughter from a previous relationship. Along with this knowledge came the facts that he was the oldest of four children, he loved football, his musical tastes ranged from classical to blues, and while he’d enjoyed their upscale fare of jumbo lump crab cakes and marinated Chilean sea bass, his mouth virtually salivated over anything smothered or fried. His love of good, down home cooking was especially pleasing to Passion, who, as a former Georgia peach, could definitely throw down in the kitchen. She believed the popular saying that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and there was no doubt that his heart, and something a bit farther south, were Passion’s ultimate
destinations.

  Throughout the more personal conversation, Passion listened for hints of another woman, a serious relationship in which Lavon was involved. She’d used a couple different approaches to direct the conversation toward relationships, mentioning her own divorce and joking about the potential discomfort of dating and then dismissing a church member. Lavon admitted leaving the church his ex-wife attended, but added nothing about his current romantic situation. As Passion and Lavon left the restaurant and drove down Lincoln Boulevard toward the Sheraton Hotel, it became clear that Passion was going to have to “go direct.”

  She waited until there was a comfortable lull in the conversation and then asked bluntly, “So, Lavon, are you presently in a relationship?”

  “What do you mean by relationship?” Lavon countered.

  What do I mean by relationship? What do you think I mean by relationship? Why do y’all do that, get stuck on stupid whenever the RCM words—relationship/commitment/marriage—come up? That must mean you are in a relationship and if you are, then why are you wining and dining women in LA?

  This flurry of thoughts happened in the time it took Passion to take a deep breath and change “pissed off” to “patient.” Controlling her chagrin, she calmly replied, “I mean, are you casually dating, in a long-term relationship, engaged, taken, or available?”

  “Well,” Lavon said slowly, gathering his thoughts. He had to be careful with his answer. On the one hand, he didn’t want to get seriously involved with Passion, and on the other hand, he didn’t want it to come off as if he were a two-timing jerk who turned up the heat on the West Coast while Midwestern home fires burned. He decided to simply tell the truth. “I am dating someone back home; she’s also a member of Mount Zion. I wouldn’t call it casual exactly, but we haven’t become exclusive.”

  Passion listened quietly, nodding her head in an “I see” manner.

  Lavon continued. “We’ve only been dating a few months and honestly, I think she’s more eager to jump into something serious than I am. She’s twenty-nine, never been married, no kids. She’s ready to settle down with someone. I want that too, eventually, but needless to say with a teenager and a divorce already on my résumé, I’m in no big hurry.”

  Fading fast were Passion’s hopes for a quick commitment, a firm foundation for something deep and lasting to occur in the eight weeks that Lavon would be in LA. Being a divorced parent herself, she understood where he was coming from, but after five years she was more than ready to get married again—the sooner, the better.

  Passion pulled just beyond the hotel’s foyer entrance, stopped the car and turned off the engine. “Sure you’re not up for a cup of coffee?” He’d declined her previous suggestion of a walk on the Santa Monica Promenade or checking out a jazz band she favored, but Passion wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

  Lavon was. “I’ll have to take a raincheck,” he said, grasping Passion’s hand lightly before raising it to his lips for a kiss. “Thank you so much for the pleasure of your company. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

  “Me too,” Passion said, her eyes fastened on the lips that had just touched her hand. “Has anybody told you that you have extremely sexy lips?”

  More like how many have told me, is what Lavon thought. “Maybe once or twice,” is what he said.

  Passion leaned over and touched her lips lightly to Lavon’s. His lips were thick and soft, just the way Passion liked them. But she restrained herself from appearing too eager. “May I have a real kiss?” she asked playfully.

  Lavon wanted to say no, but how would that sound? It’s just a kiss, he thought. And Passion was a pretty woman. He leaned toward her already tilted body and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Passion immediately opened her mouth, gently prodding his open with her tongue.

  They French-kissed for a long moment before Lavon gently pulled back. He took in Passion’s half-moon eyes and slightly parted lips, and knew she wanted him. Passion had shared with him that she was celibate, information he’d use to make sure their friendship never went past first base, the kissing stage. Because, fortunately or unfortunately for Passion, Carla had all of the other bases completely covered, even if he were trying to forget she was in the game.

  “That was nice, very nice,” Passion murmured when it became clear there would be no second helpings of the kiss appetizer.

  “And you are nice, a chaste woman of God.” Lavon opened the car door. “Thanks again, Passion,” he said as he exited. “See you in church tomorrow.”

  Passion’s celibate declaration now felt like TMI: too much information to have shared with this new friend. The word had slipped out while discussing life post-divorce. It might work in my favor, she thought as she watched Lavon walk into the lobby. When I let him make love to me, he’ll know it means something. With that decision made, that she’d definitely let Lavon hit it when the time was right, she started the car and merged from the hotel’s circular drive onto the busy boulevard.

  As she turned on Century and headed toward Crenshaw, she dissected and rated her evening with Lavon. All in all, she thought it had been an excellent first date. Getting to know Lavon Chapman better had its pluses. But as with everything in life, there was also a downside. One, Lavon was only in town for seven more weeks; after that, he’d be almost two thousand miles away. Passion had never tried a long-distance relationship and wasn’t sure she wanted to start one now. Two, while Lavon wasn’t permanently attached, he wasn’t actually free. Passion wondered about the woman in Kansas, how she looked, whether she had kids, how in love she was with Lavon. She speculated as to whether Lavon would relocate to LA, and what life was like in the Midwest. Passion had once considered relocating to a smaller city, especially when Onyx was born. She wasn’t past moving for a man.

  “Just go with the flow, girl,” Passion said to herself as she pulled into her driveway and got out of her car. A smile crossed her face as she walked up the steps. She had an eligible bachelor interested in getting to know her better and she was definitely interested in knowing him better. This exciting new development in her life would suffice…for now.

  12

  Crazy LA Traffic

  Robin sat in her car, staring dispassionately as the congregants of Kingdom Citizens’ Christian Center emerged from the sanctuary. She’d left her motel room an hour before with three things: her Cobra handgun, a pack of Kool Menthol 100’s, and a plan. She chain-smoked one cigarette after another as she watched the members of Kingdom Citizens bask in all of their fellowshipping glory. Robin pulled the baseball cap she wore farther down on her forehead, her eyes glued to the church’s parking lot. Robin watched—and waited.

  The scene inside KCCC’s executive offices was not as festive as the one outside. In fact, Derrick was having a hard time holding on to his temper as he waited for a logical explanation as to why Kelvin had showed up for service just ten minutes before the benediction. Kelvin used oversleeping, lack of transportation, and LA traffic as excuses for why he and the friend who’d given him a ride had missed church. For Derrick, none of these reasons were good enough.

  “You expect me to believe that an intelligent, capable young man such as yourself doesn’t know how to set his alarm? The same young man who is up at six-thirty during the week, sometimes earlier, to lift weights and run sprints? What kind of fool do you take me for, Kelvin?”

  Kelvin sat slouched on a leather loveseat, silent. The air fairly crackled with tension as Derrick awaited an answer. Finally Kelvin shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t.”

  “You don’t what?”

  “I don’t think you’re a fool, Rev.”

  “So since that’s not the problem, you’re going to have to tell me what is. Because I thought that after our last conversation, when I said in no uncertain terms that attending church was not optional, that this matter was settled.”

  Kelvin sighed, not wanting to tell Derrick how he really felt, but not wanting to keep perpetrating a fraud either. Truth was, Kel
vin didn’t agree with Derrick’s take on God, didn’t feel the need for religion. Even though he’d found out Derrick was his biological father only two years ago, Kelvin felt a special bond with him, respected his success. He enjoyed staying with the Montgomerys and getting to know his half brother and sister, Derrick Jr. and Elisia. In fact the only real disagreement he and his father had had since he moved in was that he didn’t like attending church. Kelvin hoped this fact wasn’t a deal breaker, but if he was going to continue to live with the Montgomerys, he had to have the freedom to live as he pleased.

  “Look, Rev, you know I respect you and all that, but I just don’t believe—”

  An urgent knock at the door interrupted Kelvin’s reply. It was Vivian. “Honey, we’ve got to go. Your uncle Charles has had an accident. They don’t know if he’ll make it.”

  “Accident, what kind of accident?” Derrick asked, rising from his chair and grabbing his jacket at the same time. Charles Montgomery was Derrick’s favorite uncle, and his father’s brother. He was as close to him as he was to his own dad.

  “Some freak happening. An electrical wire came loose and hit the water while he was taking a shower. He was electrocuted.”

  Derrick leaned back against his desk. “Oh God, no,” he said quietly, as the gravity of the situation sank in. “Please help him, God. Please put Your arms around my uncle until I get there.”

  Derrick’s assistant came into the office. He’d jumped into action as soon as Vivian had seen him on her way to Derrick and told him the news. “Just take it easy, Pastor,” he said to Derrick in a low, calming voice. “Everything is going to be all right. I’ve made your plane reservations and a town car is waiting to take you two to the airport. I’ve already called Mother Moseley. She said don’t worry; she’ll take care of the kids until you get back.”