Kelvin and Princess slept in late the next morning, then enjoyed a delicious brunch that included vegetable omelets, smoked pork, potatoes, cucumber salad, pancakes with brandied raisins, apple and plum compote, and bread dumplings. Afterward, there was more gift giving, skiing, games, and fun discussions around the large, wood-burning fireplace. The day ended with a formal dinner and dancing.
“Are you having fun?” Janeé asked Princess as she sat down and took off her heels. “I know one thing, my feet are about to rebel against all this partying. If you haven’t figured it out already, the Petersen celebration goes nonstop.”
Princess smiled but said nothing.
Janeé stopped rubbing her foot and looked at Princess. “I’m sure you miss your family, this being your first holiday away from them.”
“Yeah, I miss my family, but everyone here’s been great…so nice.”
“Princess, are you sure everything’s all right? My boy isn’t mistreating you, is he?”
“No, ma’am,” Princess responded. “I’m just, I don’t know. I haven’t been feeling myself lately.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Janeé teased. “’Cause as cute as you and Kelvin’s kids will be, I’m not ready for the grandma label just yet.”
Princess fixed Janeé with a worried look. “Ohmigod, I hope not,” she said slowly, reason dawning for why she hadn’t yet got her period. “I can’t get pregnant if I’m on the pill, right?”
“A woman can get pregnant anytime she’s sexually active,” Janeé said. “Have you missed your period? Felt sick? Tired?”
Princess hadn’t felt sick, but her period hadn’t come yet and she’d been lethargic since before the trip.
“No, I’m not pregnant,” Princess said firmly, trying to convince herself and her body of this fact. “I think I’m just still jetlagged.”
“That’s probably it,” Janeé agreed.
Suddenly, Princess missed her mother immensely. “What time is it in America?” she asked Janeé.
Janeé looked at her watch. “In Kansas, just a little past eight A.M.”
Princess stood. “I think I’m going to go call my family.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
A few moments later, Princess heard a familiar voice.
“Merry Christ-mas!” Tai said cheerfully in her standard Christmas greeting that emphasized Jesus’ name.
Her voice brought tears to Princess’s eyes. She closed her eyes, swallowed. “Hi, Mama.”
“Princess.” Pause. “I was praying to hear from you. We’ve tried for days to reach you.”
“My phone doesn’t get reception here, where I’m at.”
Tai paused. “Where are you?”
“Germany,” Princess said softly.
“That’s what I figured. When I couldn’t reach you on your cell, or at the number you’d left for Joni, I figured you’d lied about your plans. Then Mama Max told me Miss Nancy had left town for their family reunion in Germany.
“Why did you lie to us, Princess? I know we’re not too close right now but your dad and I have been really worried about you.”
“I know, Mama. But I didn’t tell you because I’m spending this time with Kelvin’s mom and I know you don’t like her.”
“How I feel about her has nothing to do with you. No matter what happens, you’re my daughter, Princess. What if something happened to you?”
Princess started to cry.
“Princess, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just miss everybody.”
“We miss you too. The holiday isn’t the same without you. I’m sure Michael will be more than happy to not have to share the fruitcake though.”
Princess smiled at the reference to her and her big brother’s age-old fights over who would eat the most of the one cake no one else in the family liked.
“You guys are ahead of us, right? Christmas is just about over, in Europe?”
“Kinda…it’s almost night here, around five o’clock.”
“Did you enjoy your day, baby? Are you happy being where you want to be?”
“It was all right,” she answered. She gave Tai a brief rundown of what her day had entailed.
“I guess there were no church services or anything, huh? Still, I hope you told Jesus happy birthday, remembered the reason for the season.”
Honestly, the baby in a manger wasn’t the child she’d been thinking about. “Is Daddy up yet?”
“No, but I’ll get him for you.”
“That’s okay; I’ll call back later.”
“I know he wants to wish you a Merry Christmas, Princess. Give me the number to where you’re at.”
Princess gave her mother the information, they shared “I love yous,” and she hung up the phone. Silent tears ran down her face as she sat in her room, thousands of miles from home, alone. Or maybe not alone. I can’t be pregnant! Having gotten on the pill the same week she lost her virginity, Princess had never given pregnancy a second thought. On this she agreed with Kelvin—now was not the time to have a child. She laughed at who she called “igno-hos,” women who slept around with professional athletes in hopes of getting pregnant and securing a nice support check for eighteen years. She hoped the laugh wasn’t now on her.
Princess curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed, feeling like the scared, vulnerable, eighteen-year-old she was, not the got-it-going-on, worldly woman she wanted so desperately to be. She remembered her mother’s words about grown folk’s pleasure coming with grown folk’s pain, and prayed she wasn’t getting ready to experience the latter. Her mother had told her more than once that in the Brook household, abortion was not an option. “The giving and taking of life is God’s business,” she’d said—her “I brought you in, I’ll take you out” position not withstanding.
“Please, God, don’t let me be pregnant,” Princess pleaded. She begged God for mercy as she tossed and turned. And then right before drifting off to sleep, she whispered, “Happy birthday, Jesus.”
39
What Child Is This
“What child is this who laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping. Who angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherd’s watch are keeping…”
The Kingdom Citizens’ Christian Center’s Christmas day early morning service was a congregation favorite, filled with music, communion, and the timeless good tidings, great joy message of Jesus’ birth. As usual, the sanctuary was filled to capacity, the parishioners in colorful shades of reds, greens, and winter whites. The matrons of the church sported a variety of lively hats. Mother Moseley was especially proud of her red velvet number: a twenty-inch-wide dipped brim, with ornament-adorned wreath and battery-operated flashing Christmas lights around the hat’s crown. The Montgomerys were a picture-perfect first family as they sat together on the raised platform—Vivian and Elisia in matching red dresses, Darius and Darius Jr. in identical forest green suits.
KCCC’s two-thousand plus congregation came alive as the choir, band, and a perfectly pitched raspy alto soloist belted Darius’s contemporary, R & B tinged arrangement of this century old holiday classic:
“This, yes this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing; Haste, haste, to bring Him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary.”
Stacy sang with fervor from her seat near the back of the church. Even though she’d taken a leave of absence, she still felt as much a part of the choir as she would in the first row of the soprano section. She’d given the director no explanation for taking a break, though if not for the cut of her A-line dress, the reason would be obvious.
Stacy placed a hand on her rounding stomach. What child is this? Darius Crenshaw Jr., or Dara, if it’s a girl. Love swelled within her as she watched her baby’s father expertly lead the band while playing intricate riffs on the keyboards. He was some kind of fine in his black silk suit and red shirt, her caramel-colored lover with close-cropped black hair, shadow goatee, and body fit forever.
Looking back, Stacy was glad
she’d called Darius the day after their fight. They’d both calmed down and were able to discuss the situation rationally. She assured Darius the child she carried was his, but agreed to take a DNA test to prove its paternity. Her friend and his sister Tanya had been great—joyfully receiving the news of becoming a first-time aunt. Hers was the first truly happy reaction. Stacy’s mother was disappointed but resigned to the situation while her brothers had asked if they needed to “persuade” the father to do the right thing. Darius hadn’t given his staunch Pentecostal grandmother the news.
But soon everybody would know about baby on board. Which was why Stacy hoped Darius would be open to the solution she felt would make the situation look more sanctified than scandalous. She planned to broach the idea when they reached Big Bear.
At four in the afternoon, the magic began. That’s when the limo picked her up at the apartment, with Darius inside. He greeted her with a flute of sparkling apple-grape juice, while he enjoyed champagne. The ride to Big Bear was long but pleasant, filled with companionable silences. Stacy felt Darius was sometimes too quiet, but she was so happy to have this time with him she didn’t want to pry, or do anything to ruin the best vacation of her life.
They arrived at Big Bear just as a slight flurry began to fall, and after settling into the rustic cabin Darius had reserved, ate a light dinner at a nearby restaurant. Stacy enjoyed the walk back to their place as snowflakes fell, but the California native was glad to return to their cozy room. Darius built a roaring fire, the perfect complement to the hot chocolate with marshmallows she fixed for them both.
“This is so perfect. Thanks, baby,” Stacy said as she handed him a mug and cuddled next to him under a furry throw.
“I’m glad you like it,” Darius said. “I like it too.”
“You know, Darius, I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh.”
Stacy laughed. “What, that’s a problem?”
“There’s always trouble when a woman gets to thinking.”
“Oh, really?”
Darius tickled her. “Really.”
“You know you’re the more ticklish of the two of us,” Stacy said, putting her mug down and reaching for his sides.
They wrestled playfully before it turned into a kiss. Their passion continued a moment before Stacy gently pulled back.
“Darius, I want to run something past you and I want you to hear me out before you get upset. Okay?”
“You mean more than about your being pregnant?”
Stacy sat up and away from Darius.
“Sorry, baby, that came out wrong. Come here, Stacy, come over here.” He pulled her back into an embrace and after a few seconds Stacy once again relaxed into him.
“That’s better. Now, what do you want to share with me? And if it’s something that might upset me, why even get into it? We just got here so let’s not have a fight on the first day.”
“I don’t want to fight at all,” Stacy countered. “I’ll just say what’s on my mind and you can agree or not, your choice.”
“Okay, shoot.”
Could it really be this easy? Shoot, just like that? Stacy decided to go for it. “Let’s get married.”
“Oh, no,” Darius yelled, feigning a heart attack. “You went straight for the jugular, woman.”
“We’re both twenty-one plus, no need for games.”
“You’re right about that, which is why I have to tell you that under no circumstances will you and me tie the knot.”
“But what about—”
“Wait a minute, let me finish. That doesn’t mean that we can’t successfully raise a child together. After paternity is established, and don’t trip, I believe it’s mine, but after the tests come back, I will immediately set up a trust fund for the baby and have an attorney work out a fair child support arrangement. I’ll buy a home for you, take care of you financially. I want to be an active, constant presence in the child’s life. But, Stacy, I don’t want to rush into a marriage just because a baby’s on the way. A baby does not a marriage make, you know that.”
“I know, but sitting in church today got me thinking…about all the gossip, what people will say. Yeah, single women have babies all the time but that still doesn’t stop tongues from wagging. Another Black baby born out of wedlock—I was hoping ours wouldn’t be a part of that statistic.”
“Would you rather it was part of the divorced parent stat?”
Stacy was silent. She’d wanted to become Mrs. Crenshaw for a long time and wasn’t ready to give up on believing it could happen.
“I’m going to make an appointment with Sistah Vivian,” Stacy continued.
“Why?”
“So she can hear about the baby from me and not through the gossip mill. And so I can get her counsel on how to handle it.”
“And maybe so Pastor Derrick will talk me into doing the right thing?”
Stacy smiled. “If he can.”
40
Christmas Just Ain’t Christmas…
Darius stood abruptly. “I’ll be back.”
“What? Please don’t go away mad, Darius. I’m not going to try and get Pastor Derrick or Sistah Vivian to change your mind, promise.”
“It’s not that. I think I left my cell at the restaurant and need to go back before they close.”
“Left your…Darius, it’s almost eleven o’clock. They’re probably closed already.”
“It’s right up the way. I won’t be long.”
And before she could formulate an argument, Darius grabbed his coat and was gone.
Around the corner from his and Stacy’s cabin, Darius knocked at another cabin’s door. The door opened quickly.
“Get in here, lover boy,” Bo purred. “What took you so long?”
“I forgot to put the phone in my pocket when we went to dinner. I just felt it vibrate a few minutes ago. And she’s been on me like my own skin. I couldn’t call you.”
Darius and Bo shared a kiss and before long, Bo had his hands down the back of Darius’s trousers.
“No, Bo, I’ve got to get back. I told Stacy I left my phone at the restaurant.” He kissed Bo again. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to let you come here. Knowing you’re so close is driving me crazy.”
“Good. Then you know how I feel, knowing my spouse is cheating on me. I wish I could quit you,” he drawled, mimicking Jake Gyllenhaal’s character in one of their favorite movies, Brokeback Mountain.
“You nut,” Darius said, hugging him tightly. “You know she’s just—”
“A decoy,” they both said together.
“Yes, I know,” Bo continued. “And I’m never going to like it, but if that’s what it takes for you to be Mr. Gospel Success and have us still be together…I’ll do anything to be with you, you know that. Okay, lover, out you go. Maybe you can come back later, after she’s asleep.”
“I’ll try. If not, I’ll get away tomorrow.”
“How?”
“Knowing you’re waiting for me, I’ll find a way.”
Minutes later, Darius was back inside with Stacy.
“Did you find your phone?”
“Uh, yeah, they had it.”
Stacy had called the restaurant immediately after Darius left and got the answering machine. She saw no need to mention this, however, reasoning that maybe the employees didn’t answer the phone after hours.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” she said instead. She laid on the bed in a provocative position, the silky fabric from her new, red, sheer nightie shimmering against her sienna skin.
Darius stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He pulled Stacy into an embrace. Stacy placed her leg over his and nuzzled his neck.
“Baby, I want to do like Keith Sweat and love you down, but it’s been a crazy long day for your boy. Can we kiss, cuddle, and call it a night? I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
Stacy wasn’t too disappointed. Pregnancy had calmed her usually roaring libido, and she’d stayed out late with H
ope’s cousin, Frieda, the night before. “Okay Dee,” she said, scooching up against him and yawning. “I know you’re a man who keeps his promises.”
Darius feigned sleep, waiting for Stacy to stop squirming. Almost an hour went by before he felt hers was deep, even breathing.
“Stacy?” he whispered, and then again, “Stacy,” a little louder.
When he got no response, he waited another ten minutes and then eased out of bed. He tiptoed into the bathroom and without turning on lights, opened the closet to put on the sweat suit, socks, and shoes he’d placed there earlier, specifically for this getaway. Once in the living room, he quietly took his cell phone and the room keys off the coffee table, put on his coat, and crept out into the dark, cold night.
Bo’s door opened before Darius knocked. “How’d you know I was out here?”
“I keep telling you we’re soul connected. I know everything you do, where you go, what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, is that right?” Darius asked as he walked over to the lit fireplace and took off his coat. “What am I thinking now?”
Bo embraced Darius from behind. “You’re thinking about what a good idea it was that I came up here.”
Darius turned and returned Bo’s hug. “You’re absolutely right.”
41
Dreams and Nightmares
Where the hell did he go? Stacy paced from the living room to the bedroom, looking out the front window each time she passed by. Darius had acted strangely all evening. Secretive, that’s how he’d been acting. When he went back for his cell phone she was convinced he already possessed, her suspicion intensified. And when he begged off lovemaking, her suspicion turned to belief. Something was up.
Her first thought, of course, was the presence of another woman. But that didn’t make sense. Why would he invite someone else on their vacation? It was too bold, too ridiculous to even consider. But still, not impossible. And who would that someone else be? Bo.
A Preacher’s Passion Page 20