“But if you stayed with Angela, you wouldn’t have been happy.”
Jonathan thought about it. David was right. That was how he got in the situation with Angela in the first place. He’d married her trying to pretend that he was something he wasn’t and in the end it had blown up in his face.
“Why don’t you find someone else?”
“That’s not even on my mind right now.” Jonathan huffed. “Look, can we change the subject? I need to figure out how I’m going to handle this.”
“Handle what?” Rachel asked as she walked into the den. She plopped down on the sofa next to David.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Jonathan said.
“I used my key,” Rachel responded as she held up her key ring.
“Does everyone still have a key?” David asked.
“Look, at least we’re not mooching off of Daddy.” Rachel pushed her brother’s shoulder. Jonathan smiled at their playful banter. It reminded him of when they were all little, fussing, fighting, and driving their parents crazy.
“Where’s Dad?” Rachel asked, looking around.
“Where else? Somebody’s church.” David laughed.
“Sick and all, some things never change.” Rachel looked at Jonathan. “What’s going on with you, Jonathan?”
“He’s finally trying to make a move and see his son,” David responded.
“What?” Rachel smiled. “You’re finally listening to your little sister. I told you a long time ago you needed to try and get visitation. It’s only fair.”
Jonathan shrugged. “I just know how much I hurt Angela and I didn’t want to cause her any more grief.”
“Look, who you sleep with should have no bearing on whether you’re capable of raising your child,” Rachel said. “By the way, doesn’t he have a birthday coming up?”
“Yep, he’ll be seven.” Jonathan’s mood darkened. “I’ve missed seven years of his life. I just can’t do it anymore.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Rachel said as she got up and walked over to her brother. She took his hand and squeezed it. “Angela will just have to get over it. Is she still moving here?”
“As far as I know,” Jonathan responded. “We have court in two weeks. My attorney said I have a good shot because the case is going before a pretty liberal judge.”
“You want us there?” Rachel asked.
“That would mean the world to me.” Jonathan smiled as he looked at his siblings. Growing up, they had never been close. David had been jealous because their father had always doted on Jonathan and didn’t hesitate to let them know he felt Jonathan was the favorite son. David had resented it throughout their childhood. And Rachel had always been so lost in her own, spoiled little world. Then, of course, they’d all resented their father not ever having time for any of them. But their mother always used to say God works in mysterious ways. Her death had brought them all closer.
“Well, you know, any dirty little trick Angela thinks she can pull, I’ve been there, done that. So she can’t come here thinking she’s going to get over,” Rachel warned.
“No, Angela’s not like that. She’s not the type to play dirty,” Jonathan said. He stopped and frowned. “Or at least she didn’t used to be. I don’t know anymore. But still, I don’t want this thing to get ugly.”
“Please,” Rachel replied. “Ain’t nothing like a woman scorned—trust me when I tell you, I doubt very seriously if Angela is the same sweet woman you remember.”
Jonathan weighed his sister’s words. Something in his gut told him Rachel was right on the money. He was in for the fight of his life.
Chapter 9
Rachel stood in the doorway of Lester’s office and stared at her husband and the floozy leaning over him with her double Ds all up in his face. Why did these people insist on making me regress? She was trying to be good and upstanding, but when tramps like nasty Nikki Rollins continued to get all up in her husband’s face, it was just plain difficult. Lester was sitting at his desk pointing something out to Nikki on a piece of paper. She was giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Pastor, you are so smart,” Nikki said as she leaned in closer. “I never would’ve figured that out.”
“You want to get those things up out of my husband’s face?” Rachel said through clenched teeth as she stomped into the office.
Lester immediately stood up. “Hi honey. I…I was just helping Nikki get a better understanding of the Scripture she plans to teach in Sunday school,” he said nervously, probably because he knew things were about to get ugly.
Rachel strutted into the room, keeping her eye on Nikki, who was now standing up straight trying to look innocent. “Oh, she’s gon’ need some help all right. She’s gon’ need help putting her weave back in because I’m about two seconds from snatching it out of her head.”
“Sister Adams…I…I wasn’t doing anything,” Nikki stammered as she ran her fingers through her two-tone burgundy hair.
“Not from lack of trying!” Rachel said, motioning toward the breasts that looked like they were screaming to get out of Nikki’s low-cut blouse. “You need to take your trashy behind back to Sweet Poke, Salt Lick, or whatever the name of that country town is you blew in from because you don’t know who you messing with.”
“Rachel!” Lester admonished.
Rachel spun toward her husband. “What?”
“What are you doing?” Lester looked like he was pleading with his eyes for her to calm down.
Rachel’s nostrils flared. “I’m informing Sister Rollins that she’s flirting with the wrong woman’s husband.” Back in the day, Rachel wouldn’t have hesitated to throw down, but she was older now. And a first lady. And trying to do better in her walk with God. But at the same time, she had to let these women know she wasn’t her mama. Loretta Jackson used to turn the other cheek to these floozies and just trust that “God will keep my husband faithful,” as she always used to say. Well, Rachel was gonna give God a little help. Plus, she simply could not allow herself to be disrespected the same way those women had disrespected her mother.
Lester was frazzled. He turned toward Nikki. “Sister Rollins, please excuse us. I need a word with my wife.”
Nikki scurried out of the room. She had barely closed the door when Lester took a deep breath and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
Rachel stood with her arms crossed, a defiant look on her face.
Lester sighed. “Sit down. Please.”
Rachel kept her lips poked out as she sat down.
“Rachel, I have asked you time and time again to please refrain from going off on the women of the church,” Lester said as he sat down behind his desk.
“And I have asked you time and time again to keep these tramps up out of your face.” Rachel crossed her legs as she glared at her husband.
“Rachel, you’re being unreasonable. Part of my job as minister is to counsel and advise members of the congregation, and that includes female members.”
Rachel stared at her husband. He was making her sick. He was like her father, too blind to see that these women were after one thing and one thing only—to take her spot as first lady. “Lester, Nikki was all over you.” She tried to speak calmly. “For a minute I thought she was trying to breastfeed you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Don’t be naive.”
“Rachel, I’m tired of having this conversation with you over and over. Last month, you went off on Veronica Melborne because you said she was staring at my behind.”
“Well, she was,” Rachel said, cutting him off.
Lester held up his hand. “Let me finish. The month before that, you got upset at the women on the auxiliary board because you said they were talking about you and how I could do so much better.”
“Well, they were. And you can’t.”
“This is crazy,” Lester huffed. “You know I love you and only you. This insane, petty jealousy has got to stop. When are you going to grow up?”
<
br /> Rachel stared at him like he had lost his mind. “Grow up? Grow up? Oh, so now I’m immature?” That was a slap in the face, considering how hard she had been working at being a “mature and responsible” first lady.
“Rachel, you’re putting words in my mouth,” he sighed.
“Words in your mouth? Your exact words were ‘when are you going to grow up.’ ”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Just how did you mean it, then, Reverend Adams?”
“I meant to say…oh, forget it.” He shook his head.
Rachel uncrossed her legs and scooted to the edge of the chair. “No, let’s not forget it.”
“Rachel, I have a sermon to prepare for. I’m not going to go through this with you.” He flicked his hand, turned his back, and began typing on his computer.
“Did you just dismiss me?” Rachel stared at him in disbelief. Lester buried his face in his hands. Rachel reached out and knocked all of the papers off his desk. “You are crazy if you think you can just dismiss me!”
Someone knocked at the door. Lester seemed relieved by the interruption as he turned around in his seat. “Yes, come in.”
Deacon Bishop Long stuck his head in the door. “Pastor, the people are here to install the new organ. They need you to tell them where you want it.”
Lester immediately jumped up. “Tell them I’ll be right out.” He turned his attention back to Rachel. “I’ll be here late tonight because we have a finance meeting. Do you want me to pick the kids up from your dad’s?”
Rachel debated continuing the argument, but she was tired herself and right about now she couldn’t stand the sight of her husband. “Naw, they’re spending the night.”
“Well, do you want to go catch a late movie or something? I’ll be out of here around nine.” He looked like he desperately wanted to let their argument slide.
“You know what, don’t worry about it. I’m sure Nikki will need some more counseling or help with her Sunday school lesson or something. I know how important that is to you, so you just stay here and do that. Don’t bother rushing home because I’m going out.” Rachel grabbed her purse and headed for the door. These people at Zion Hill better realize that she was not about to be pushed around, not even by her husband.
Chapter 10
Twyla Huff stood with her mouth open. The music thumped throughout the dark building, the bass sounds reverberating across the room. Sweaty bodies were grinding against one another on the crowded dance floor.
Rachel turned to her friend. “What?”
“I’m just trying to figure out what you’re doing,” Twyla yelled so Rachel could hear her over the music.
Rachel ignored her and turned back to the bar. “I’m having a good time. What does it look like I’m doing?” She bobbed her head up and down to the sounds of music she didn’t even recognize, let alone understand.
Luckily, the deejay switched to a slow song so they didn’t have to shout to hear one another anymore. “Number one, you are not having a good time. Number two, you haven’t been to a club in over a year,” Twyla said as she tried to reason with Rachel.
Rachel eased her glass up to her mouth as she took a seat at the bar. Surprisingly, she hadn’t really had a desire to go out in the last year because she’d been so busy at church, but Lester had really pissed her off tonight. “I would say that just means I’m overdue,” she said as she sipped her drink.
“And you’re drinking at that!” Twyla shook her head in disbelief.
“So? There’s wine in the Bible and there is nothing wrong with a little glass of white Zinfandel.”
“Well, I know I don’t know much about the Word, but I don’t think anybody in the Bible had their wine while they were up in Visions listening to Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz.”
“Twyla, I asked you to come along so we could just hang out and have a good time, just like we used to do back in the day,” Rachel said.
“That’s just it—that was back in the day.” Twyla scrunched up her face as the music got louder and some rapper started spouting more words no one could understand. “We are older and I like to think wiser. I’m a freaking schoolteacher. I might see some of my students in here. And let’s not even mention what the deacon board would say about you being here.”
Rachel spun around on her bar stool and pointed a finger at Twyla. “See, that’s what you don’t get. I don’t care what the deacon board, Reverend Adams, Reverend Jackson, or any of them other hypocrites at that church say about what I do.” Rachel was fed up. Since she’d become first lady, she had tried to change, tried to become who they all wanted her to be. And she still couldn’t get any respect. “Screw them. I’m gon’ be me and see how they all like that.”
Twyla was about to say something but stopped when a man with gold across his whole top row of teeth stepped up to them at the bar. He was wearing a shiny purple suit with matching purple gators.
“Ummmph, ummphh, umphh. Dang girl, you look like Natalie Cole,” he said as he stepped toward Twyla.
Twyla looked confused. “Natalie Cole?”
“Yeah, girl. Unforgettable,” he said with a wide grin, displaying his teeth.
Rachel giggled. Twyla looked like she wanted to throw up. She took a deep breath. “Look, Luther—”
It was the man’s turn to look confused. “Hey, how do you know my name?”
Twyla turned up her nose again. “It’s plastered across your teeth.”
The man touched his mouth and laughed. “Oh yeah, right, right.”
Rachel leaned in to look at his grill, which he proudly displayed.
“Yep, it says Luther right across the front.” Rachel tried not to crack a smile. “Bet that set you back a pretty penny.”
“Sho’ did,” he said. “But it ain’t nothing but a thang. I got money to burn, baby.” He turned toward Twyla and licked his lips. “And I sho’ would like to set you on fire with some of it.”
Rachel was just about to comment when she noticed the leggy girl with the blonde braids standing behind Luther.
“I know you ain’t up in this club all over some other skank!”
Luther spun around. “Michel’le!” He looked like he had the fear of God in him. “I…I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I bet you did,” the woman said, pushing him out of the way. “Who is this tramp?” she asked, pointing at Twyla. She didn’t give Twyla time to answer as she stepped toward her. “I know you not trying to step to my man. ’Cause I will cut your bourgeois behind like my name is Jack the Ripper.”
Twyla looked terrified. Luther grabbed Michel’le by the arm. “Come on, baby. It ain’t even like that.”
“Then what it’s like, Luther, huh, fool?” She snatched her arm away. “I saw you all up in her face!”
Luther tried to rub her braids. “Babe, chill. She was telling me she got some Louis Vuittons for sale in her car and was asking me did I want some. You know it’s loud in here, that’s why I was leaning up on her. I was trying to figure out which one I wanted to get you.”
Michel’le looked at him like she was trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “For real, Luther? You bet’ not be lying to me.”
He stepped in and put his arms around her waist. “Girl, you know I ain’t lying to you. Come to think of it, I don’t even want to buy my baby no knockoffs. I’m gon’ take you to the Galleria tomorrow and get you the real thing.”
Michel’le squealed in delight. Luther turned to Twyla, his arm draped around Michel’le’s neck. “Sorry, but I’m gon’ have to pass on the bags. My baby deserves the real thang.” Michel’le planted a kiss on Luther’s cheek as they strutted off into the corner.
“If that isn’t enough to convince you it’s time to go, I don’t know what is,” Twyla said, turning to Rachel. “So, please can we get out of here?”
Rachel looked around the club. Besides that little entertaining episode, she really wasn’t having a good time. She used to keep the clubs hot in her you
nger days. But now she felt totally out of her element. She looked at her watch. It was almost midnight. Lester should be home by now; he was probably wondering where she was. She’d intended to stay out till two or three and really make him mad, but she felt her body wearing down.
“All right. Fine. Let’s go.” Rachel opened her purse, pulled out two twenties, and slid them toward the bartender. “Here, this is for our tab. Keep the change.”
Rachel caught up with Twyla, who had already walked to the other side of the dance floor. “Would you wait up?”
“I am ready to go now,” Twyla repeated.
Rachel grabbed Twyla’s arm and turned her toward the dance floor. “Look. Is that who I think it is?”
Twyla peered at the dance floor. “Bobby?” She looked at Rachel suspiciously. “You knew he was going to be here, didn’t you?”
“I swear I didn’t.” Rachel quickly pulled out a mirror and checked her makeup. No, she didn’t want Bobby anymore, but she still wanted to look good whenever he saw her. “I’ll be right back.”
Rachel ignored Twyla’s protests as she strutted over to the dance floor. Bobby was dancing with some woman who looked old enough to be his mother. Rachel pretended she didn’t see him as she stopped and started talking to some man she had no interest in.
She looked out of the corner of her eye and caught Bobby staring at her. He whispered something to the woman he was with and then walked over to Rachel.
“What’s up, Rachel?” Bobby said.
Rachel feigned surprise. “Hey, Bobby. How are you?”
The guy Rachel had been talking to looked back and forth between Rachel and Bobby.
“Yo, man, can you excuse us for a minute?” Bobby said.
The man looked like he was about to protest, but Rachel smiled. “I’ll see you around.”
He frowned before walking off.
Rachel turned back to Bobby, a big smile plastered across her face. He looked so good in his black leather jacket, black T-shirt, and black slacks. His sandy brown hair and gray eyes, even his cleft chin, were as sexy as ever. It was amazing how much Jordan looked like him.
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