Chapter 1
Rachel adjusted the brim of her huge lavender hat. She brushed down her lavender suit as she surveyed her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Her auburn-tinted hair rested comfortably on her shoulders. She had to admit she was looking good.
“Girl, you make a bomb first lady,” she muttered to her reflection. She couldn’t help but smile. If her mother wasn’t already dead, this was a sight that would have surely killed her. Nope, never in a million years would Loretta Jackson have believed her only daughter was decked out in her Sunday best, preparing to take her spot next to her husband at Zion Hill’s Pastor Appreciation ceremony.
Rachel was having a hard time believing it herself. She’d actually left Lester a year and a half ago when he didn’t give in to her ultimatum. But after one week of living with her father, she returned home. Besides the fact that Simon still didn’t have cable, he spent every day telling her how wrong she’d been to walk out on her husband, trying to preach to her about how Lester was doing the right thing and how she was being unreasonable. Then, to top things off, her brother, David, was living at home and his crackhead girlfriend, Tawny, was always coming around begging for another chance.
David had gotten hooked on drugs after an injury ended his promising football career. But after his mother died seven years ago, he quit cold turkey. He said he’d been clean since then; everyone else believed him, but Rachel wasn’t quite sure that she did.
Plus, even though her other brother, Jonathan, had his own apartment, he was forever at Simon’s, too. That place was like Grand Central Station.
And despite what she told herself, she had missed Lester something terrible.
“Hey, honey. Are you ready?”
Rachel turned toward Lester. He actually looked quite dapper in his three-piece navy suit. Nia was clutching his hand tightly. They stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, looking like the perfect father and daughter.
“Wow, Mommy, you look so pretty,” Nia said. “Don’t she, Daddy?”
“Doesn’t she, sweetheart,” Lester replied. “And yes, she is an absolute vision of loveliness.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Rachel giggled and wiggled her hips. Nia and Lester chuckled.
“Well, we’d better get going,” Lester said.
Rachel knew he was excited. Today marked his year anniversary in the pulpit and even Rachel had to admit that he was an awesome preacher. After Lester trained around the clock for six months with her father, the board agreed to offer him the job permanently. There were a couple of dissenters, but everyone knew it was personal against her father because he hadn’t stepped down right after her mother died and their family drama escalated out of control. Ultimately, no one could deny what a dynamic preacher Lester was. It also didn’t hurt that his grandmother was a longtime member of Zion Hill and a huge benefactor to the church.
“Where’s Jordan?” Rachel asked, snapping out of her thoughts.
“Where else? In front of the TV playing that PlayStation,” Lester responded.
Rachel shook her head in disgust. She’d told Jordan’s father, Bobby, not to buy that dang thing. Now all Jordan ever wanted to do was play that stupid game.
Rachel followed her family downstairs and, after dragging Jordan away from the PlayStation, they headed out to church.
Fifteen minutes later, Lester navigated the family’s Ford Explorer into the reserved parking spot in front of the church’s back office door. Rachel noticed Sister Ida Hicks and Layla Wilson lollygagging around outside. Layla was Bobby’s sister-in-law and had never liked Rachel. So Rachel made sure she took her time getting out of the car. She wanted to make an entrance.
As usual, Lester was oblivious to her showboating. He quickly made his way inside to prepare for services. Nia followed him into the building.
“Sister Wilson, you look wonderful. When is your baby due?” Rachel asked, eyeing her stomach.
Layla glared at her. “I’m not pregnant.”
Rachel moved her hand to her heart. “I am so sorry. I thought I heard you were expecting.”
“No. I’m not,” Layla snarled.
“My apologies again.” Rachel tried her best to look apologetic. She knew she was wrong. But she had overheard Layla talking about her last week and since she knew Layla was self-conscious about her plus-size frame, she couldn’t help but take a dig at her.
“Hey, nephew.” Layla tried to flick Rachel off as she leaned in and hugged Jordan, who was standing next to his mother. “I had a blast with you last week. Your mom can’t stop talking about what a great time you, her, and your dad had.”
Now it was Rachel’s turn to snarl. Layla knew Rachel didn’t want Jordan calling Bobby’s wife, Shante, “Mom.”
“Come on, Jordan,” Rachel said, grabbing his hand. She ignored the snide look on Layla’s face as they made their way into the church.
The choir was just beginning to sing, signaling the start of service. Rachel took her standard seat at the end of the fourth row. Much of the service was business as usual, and she had to struggle to stay focused. She nodded as her husband prepared for his sermon. He was going into that zone, the one where he concentrated on nothing but delivering an inspirational message.
She still couldn’t believe she was somebody’s first lady. She’d even quit her job in an upscale Galleria-area boutique to work full-time at the church handling all of the youth activities. She’d toned down some of her wild ways and was trying her best to be nicer to people. (Layla didn’t count.) It had been hard adjusting at first, because she definitely wasn’t used to being in church every Sunday, and especially not on time. But she’d adjusted a lot better than she’d thought she would. Still, Rachel already knew some things were gon’ have to change around Zion Hill. She’d been patient, trying to let Lester get acclimated, but it was time for her to do her thing.
“Good morning, church!” Lester said as he stepped up to the podium. “Have I got a message for you today!”
Rachel couldn’t help but smile. Lester definitely seemed to have found his calling in the pulpit. It was like he came alive. No, it was like he became a totally different person. She, on the other hand, always found her mind wandering to a million other things, but she’d learned to plaster on a smile and throw in a couple of nods and “Amens” for good measure, so no one ever really knew.
Lester must’ve been fifteen minutes into his sermon when a loud shout broke Rachel out of her mental trance.
“Take it back you pig-faced punk!”
Lester abruptly stopped preaching and—along with everyone else—directed his attention to the pew where the ruckus was coming from.
“I ain’t taking nothing back. My mama said yo’ mama is a tramp and your uncle is a fag.”
Before anyone could move, Jordan jumped from his seat, pounced on Sister Hicks’s ten-year-old great-grandson, who was sitting next to him, and pummeled the boy’s face.
“Lawd, have mercy,” someone muttered.
“Jesus, they fighting in the Lord’s house,” someone else said.
Both Rachel and Lester raced toward Jordan at the same time. It took both of them and three deacons to pull the boys apart.
“Let me go! Let me go! I’ma kick his funky butt!” Jordan shouted.
Rachel heard several members gasp. But she couldn’t deal with them right now. “Jordan!” she admonished. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Tell him to take it back! I’m sick of him. I hate him!” Jordan screamed.
One of the deacons had the other little boy pinned down on the pew. His nose was bleeding and he was huffing heavily. “Don’t nobody care ’bout you hating them. Don’t nobody like you no way, stupid.”
“I got yo’ stupid!” Jordan tried to dive toward the boy again. Rachel caught him and pulled him back.
“Jordan!”
“Son, you need to settle down,” Lester said, trying to take Jordan by the arm. Jordan snatched his arm away.
“Don’t te
ll me what to do. You not my daddy!”
Rachel slapped Jordan upside the head. “Boy, what have I told you about saying that!” Even though he was close to Lester, lately, whenever Jordan got mad that was the first thing out of his mouth. Lester always took it pretty well, though; even now, he kept his calm demeanor.
Jordan was trying desperately to fight back tears. Rachel let out a long sigh as she dragged him away, mumbling an apology. She knew Lester would try to clean it up before finishing his sermon, but he might as well just dismiss church because no one would be listening.
Rachel ignored all the people staring at her and shaking their heads as she dragged Jordan down the aisle and out of the sanctuary.
“These kids today just ain’t got no discipline,” one longtime member muttered.
“They need to let me at him,” an elderly lady said, “I’d beat some sense in him.”
“Lord, Lord, Lord, this family is just full of drama,” said another member, Sister Viola Smith.
Rachel rolled her eyes. She considered responding, but knew there wasn’t much she could say because Sister Smith was right on the money. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t escape the drama.
Chapter 2
Rachel paced back and forth across the living room of the massive six-thousand-square-foot house she’d called home for the last three months. She paused, glancing out the window at a car slowly making its way down her dead-end street. People were always coming into her gated community in Southwest Houston, gawking at the beautiful custom-built brick homes. It got on her nerves, especially right now. She chalked her irritation up to the fact that she was just angry right now and snapped back to her phone conversation.
“I’m telling you, Bobby, you need to get this boy under control before I have to hurt him!” She was squeezing the cordless phone so tightly against her ear, she thought she’d crack it.
Her son was locked in his bedroom upstairs. Rachel hated calling on Bobby, but it was obvious she and Lester couldn’t get through to Jordan’s little bad behind.
“What do you want me to do, Rachel?” Bobby sounded exasperated, which was unusual because he always took an active interest in what was going on with Jordan.
“What do you mean, what do I want you to do? Be his daddy!”
“Every time I try, you won’t let me. Need I remind you that just last month you told me, ‘Lester’s his daddy now.’ ”
Rachel sighed. She remembered that horrible conversation. As much as she tried to walk the straight and narrow, Bobby had a way of bringing out the ignorant side in her. Her best friend, Twyla, said it was because she was still in love with him. Rachel wouldn’t even entertain that idea—it had taken her too long to get over Bobby. She definitely wasn’t trying to backtrack.
“I apologized for that. You know I have no problem with you seeing Jordan.”
“Yeah, when you feel like it. Even though we have joint custody, I can’t ever get him until you say so.”
“I’m just looking out for Jordan’s best interests. You know how stupid your wife can get.”
It was Bobby’s turn to sigh. “Please don’t start.”
“Where is Mrs. Shante anyway? In the kitchen getting something to eat?” Like her sister, Shante was heavyset and Rachel had always taken pleasure in pointing that out even though she’d heard Shante had lost some weight.
Bobby hesitated. “Spoken like a true first lady, Rachel.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes closed. Dangit, there she went again. She and Shante had history, from the time Rachel had tried to cut her with a five-inch blade to the time they’d gotten into a fight—on Shante and Bobby’s wedding day. It had been nothing but bad blood between the two of them. That was a part of her life Rachel didn’t care to revisit.
“Bobby, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
He let out a laugh. “Wow, I never thought I would live to see the day when Rachel Jackson apologized two times in one conversation.”
A small smile crept up on Rachel’s face. “Technically, that first time wasn’t an apology. I was telling you I had apologized the other time.”
“Two apologies in one lifetime is more than I ever thought I’d get.” They both laughed at that. After the laughter died down a silence hung in the air. “I’ll come get Jordan next weekend and have a talk with him, see if I can figure out why he’s been acting up lately,” Bobby offered.
Rachel sighed thankfully. She was at her wits’ end with her son. He used to be a perfect angel; for the last six months he’d been a holy terror. “I appreciate that, Bobby. Lester has been trying to deal with him, but Jordan’s being so disrespectful to him I’m gon’ hurt him before it’s all over. So whatever you can do, I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
They were both silent again for a moment. Finally, Bobby spoke. “Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“What happened to us?”
Rachel almost dropped the phone. She definitely wasn’t expecting him to go there. She’d always felt like Bobby was her soul mate, but she’d accepted a long time ago that what they’d had was gone for good. “Ummmm, wrong time, wrong place I guess,” she replied as she got the phone situated back under her ear.
“Yeah, we were both young,” Bobby replied wistfully. “If only…” He hesitated. “You know you will always be my one and only true love. You know that, right?”
Where is this coming from? She’d been crazy in love with Bobby, and had tried everything under the sun to get him back, yet nothing had ever worked. He’d broken her heart and married Shante. “Bobby, I…I don’t know what to say.” Rachel felt her heartbeat speeding up. No, no, no, she told herself. You are so over him.
“I’m unhappy, Rachel. Shante and I fight constantly. We’re both miserable. I made a huge mistake marrying her.” He sounded so pitiful.
“Bobby, you’re just going through a hard time in your marriage. It’s hard work.” Rachel knew she should just hang up the phone but Bobby was her first love, not to mention her son’s father. They’d broken up when she was eighteen after he went overseas to serve in the military and Rachel had gotten pregnant by his best friend, Tony, while he was gone. Even though Rachel had had a beautiful daughter, Nia, whom Bobby had come to adore, he was never able to get over Rachel’s betrayal.
“I’m unhappy because I should have married you.” Bobby rushed the words out.
Rachel was stunned. She would have given her right arm to hear those words seven years ago, when she showed up at Bobby’s wedding and begged him not to marry Shante.
Now she weighed his declaration. Her heart wanted to tell him she would always love him, too. She felt her mouth forming the words when she looked up and saw Lester standing in the doorway. When had he gotten home from church?
“Honey, I just stopped by to pick up this book,” he said, holding up Joel Osteen’s latest. “It’s for Sister Taylor. I’m running over there to pray with her. Her mother is very sick.” Lester walked over and kissed Rachel on the head. “I love you. Don’t worry about cooking. I’ll stop and pick us up something on the way home. I just want you to relax. I’ll talk to Jordan when I get back.”
Rachel still had the phone to her ear as Lester walked out of the house. The Lord will come just when the devil thinks he’s winning. Her mother’s words of wisdom rang in her ears.
“Rachel, are you still there? Did you hear what I said?” Bobby asked.
Rachel stared at the phone before slamming it down and dropping to her knees. If ever she needed to pray for strength, it was now. She was a happily married woman and Bobby was the devil in disguise.
Chapter 3
Angela Brooks stared at the legal document in disbelief. She read the heading for the twentieth time. “Petition for joint custody. Jonathan Edward Jackson versus Angela Brooks for minor child, Chase Antoine Brooks.”
This could not possibly be happening. Jonathan could not possibly think that she would let their child live with him for any amount
of time. Angela slumped to the floor in her two-bedroom condo. She had started a new life here in Atlanta. One far removed from the devastating lie she’d been living as Mrs. Jonathan Jackson. Married less than a month and pregnant with their child, she’d come home to discover that her perfect husband was far from perfect. After she overheard his conversation with his former lover, Jonathan admitted something she’d never in a million years thought she’d hear: He was gay. She’d been crushed and had moved away in shame.
Too stunned to cry, Angela reread the document. She couldn’t make out all of the legal terms, but there was no doubt about it: This fool thought he was going to get her child on a regular basis.
Anger slowly took the place of disbelief and Angela pulled herself up off the floor. She stomped into her kitchen and snatched the cordless phone off its base. She looked up Jonathan’s cell phone number in her Rolodex, which she only had because he was always sending her checks, checks she never cashed, and he always included his contact information as if she was really going to call. She punched in his number. He answered on the third ring.
“Have you lost your mind!” she screamed.
“Hello to you, too, Angela,” Jonathan calmly replied.
“Skip the formalities, Jonathan. I got your funky little petition. You must be on that crack your brother is smoking if you think for one minute I’m going to let you have my child.”
“First of all, David is clean, has been for several years now,” Jonathan replied. “Second of all, Chase is my child, too. Angela, I never wanted it to come to this, but you won’t even let me see him.”
“See him for what? So you can teach him how to be a man?” she sneered.
“See him so I can let him know his father didn’t abandon him.” His calm tone was truly pissing her off.
Everybody Say Amen Page 2