Everybody Say Amen

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “What are you doing here?” Bobby asked. His tone definitely was not what she expected. Usually, it would have been condescending, like she was doing something wrong. But this time he actually sounded pleasantly surprised to see her.

  “The same thing you are, getting my groove on.”

  “Do you really think you should be out in a club?”

  “Now, Bobby, you know me well enough to know I don’t do things the traditional way.”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “Where’s your wife?” she responded pointedly.

  He ignored her. “You do know the good reverend is going to go off when he finds out his wife went to a club.”

  “You do know I could care less about him going off.”

  A small smile finally crept up on Bobby’s face. “Hmmmm, trouble in paradise?”

  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Rachel knew she had put on her flirtatious voice, but she couldn’t help it. Bobby just brought out the bad girl in her.

  “How’s my son?” he asked.

  “You still coming to get him this weekend?”

  “Yeah, I’m taking him to the Rockets game.”

  “Make sure you talk to him again about his behavior. Whatever you said last time didn’t work,” Rachel said as she recalled the two notes that had been sent home from his teacher this week. She’d decided that there was nothing emotionally wrong with Jordan. He was just being bad.

  “I’ll do that. You can drop him off at any time. Shante moved out. She and I are getting a divorce.”

  Rachel didn’t know whether to shout for joy or cry. She had envisioned this day for years. But now that she’d settled into a quiet existence with Lester, it was not the news she wanted to hear.

  Bobby stared at Rachel and she could tell he was taking a trip down memory lane. “Dang, girl, you look good.”

  Rachel blushed. The confidence she’d had just minutes ago was gone. She felt her heart start beating fast.

  Just then Twyla came over to her. “Hey Bobby,” she said, before turning to Rachel. “Can we please go now? These people here are getting on my nerves and all this rap is making my head hurt. You—”

  Twyla stopped talking mid-sentence and looked back and forth between Rachel and Bobby, who were staring at each other like they were the only two people in the room. Twyla cleared her throat. “Excuse me, anybody notice me standing here?”

  Both of them snapped out of their daze. “Oh, what’s up, Twyla, where’s James?” Bobby said, referring to Twyla’s husband and Bobby’s first cousin.

  “He’s at home and he’s going to kill me if I don’t get there soon,” she said, turning her attention back to Rachel.

  “Oh, okay,” Rachel said. “I guess we should be going.” She kept her gaze on Bobby.

  “How’d you all get here?” Bobby asked.

  “I drove,” Twyla said as she shot Rachel another look. “And I’m about to leave, with or without you.”

  “Hey, look here, Twyla, ummm, why don’t you go on home? I’ll drop Rachel off. I wanted to go to IHOP or something ’cause I had some stuff I needed to talk to her about.”

  Twyla looked at him like he was crazy. “Some stuff like what?” she asked.

  “About Jordan,” Bobby replied.

  Rachel was speechless. Flirting with Bobby over the phone or in a place filled with hundreds of people was one thing, but to be in a car alone with him, just the two of them, was something totally different. Suddenly the reality of what she was doing set in. Lester was a good man. She’d left her wild ways behind her. Well, then what are you doing up in the club? the little nagging voice in her head asked.

  “Ummm, it’s…it’s getting late. Twyla’s right. I better get going,” Rachel stammered.

  Bobby looked disappointed. “Are you sure? I, um, I’d really like to talk to you.”

  It took every ounce of strength in her body, but Rachel took a deep breath and replied, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just give me a call, okay? We’ll talk later.”

  She grabbed Twyla’s arm and pulled her out of the club. Rachel didn’t stop until they were inside the car. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat.

  “You want to tell me what that was about?” Twyla said as she started the car.

  “That,” Rachel said as she opened her eyes and looked at her friend, “is what they mean when they say the devil is always hard at work.”

  Chapter 11

  Lester opened the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice, poured a glass, then put the carton back in the refrigerator. He walked over to the toaster and dropped a piece of bread in. He stood there waiting on it to brown. When it popped up, he snatched it out, grabbed a paper towel and sat down at the kitchen table and began nibbling on his toast.

  Rachel sat across from him at the table. “So, you’re just not going to say anything to me all morning,” she said, staring at him.

  Lester didn’t respond and just kept chewing.

  “Lester, I said I was sorry for staying out so late.” Rachel had tried to stay mad, but his refusal to even talk to her when she finally made it in last night and told him where she’d been had caused her to break down and apologize.

  Lester finally stopped chewing and glared at her. “A club. My wife, the first lady of one of the best churches in Houston, was up in a nightclub, doing God knows what, with God knows who.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. She should’ve just lied when she came in last night. But Lester was waiting up and she felt bad enough about the conflicted emotions running through her mind over Bobby that she’d told him she’d gone out to Visions.

  “I wasn’t doing anything but hanging out,” Rachel said.

  “Hanging out? You’re dang near thirty years old, why do you still feel the need to hang out?” Lester was furious. Rachel couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him so angry.

  “I won’t be thirty for three more years. And you say that like thirty is old or something anyway. That’s crazy! I’m still young and if I want to go out and have a good time now and then, I don’t see the problem with that.”

  “You don’t see the problem?” He got up and started pacing across the kitchen. “We lead by example, Rachel! How am I supposed to get up and preach to people about how wrong it is to be hanging out in clubs until all hours of the night when you’re doing that very thing?”

  This argument was starting to get on her nerves, especially since Lester was starting to sound just like her father: always worried about what the people of Zion Hill would think. “I don’t care how or what you preach. You got the calling. I didn’t. I try to be supportive of you and that church, but you can’t even respect me enough to stop these tramps from getting all up in your face, so why should I respect you enough to stay out of the club?”

  “So this is all about Nikki, isn’t it?”

  Rachel glared at him. “Hell, yeah, it’s about Nikki!”

  “Rachel, I have asked you over and over, please do not curse.”

  “Oh, give me a break! ‘Hell’ is not a curse word. Heaven or hell, remember?”

  “That is not the context in which you used the word.”

  “Whatever, Lester.” She rolled her eyes.

  Lester stared at Rachel. “You are being ridiculous. I need you to grow up and start acting like a proper first lady.”

  “And how does a proper first lady act, Lester? Like my mother? News flash: It ain’t happening. You knew that when you married me. You knew that when you decided to take over my daddy’s church, and you know that now. And you just seem to forget all that I have been doing. I’ve turned the youth department around. I go to all the little church functions, the boring meetings, the sick and shut-in visits, the stupid bingo games. I even taught some Sunday school classes, and you want to talk to me about being proper?” Rachel was fuming now, too. Granted, maybe she shouldn’t have been at the club, but if he’d been doing the right thing—keeping the floozies out of his face—she would’ve never
gone in the first place. “Since when did you get so self-righteous anyway?”

  Lester let out an exasperated sigh as he picked up his glass from the table and took it to the sink. “Rachel, I’m just trying to live a godly life and I want my family to do the same.” He poured his juice out, then put the glass in the dishwasher before turning back to face her. “You’re always talking about your mother, but you could learn a thing or two from her ability to handle things properly. I was talking to your father about this very thing—”

  “Why are you talking to my father?” Rachel interrupted.

  “Because I don’t know how to get you to see that we’ve got to do better.”

  “I don’t have to do anything! You married the wrong person if you want someone like my mother. And if my daddy couldn’t change me all those years he tried, I don’t know what makes you think you can.” Rachel leaned back and crossed her arms. “And for your information, I’m trying to be a proper first lady, as you call it, but I’m not gon’ be no fool either. And if you can’t do what I ask, then I can’t do what you ask.”

  Lester sighed again. “Fine, Rachel, what do you ask?”

  “Keep the skanks out of your face.”

  Lester nodded. “I will keep the skanks out of my face.”

  “I’m serious, Lester. ’Cause I can’t promise you I won’t act a fool.”

  Lester forced a smile. “You? Act a fool? Never.”

  “I’m serious, Lester. You know what I’m capable of. Don’t make me go there.”

  “Whatever you say, Rachel. I don’t want to argue with you.” Lester popped the last piece of toast in his mouth. “I have to get over to the church. The electrician is coming.” Lester leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head, which meant he was still salty with her.

  Rachel watched him leave. He reminded her so much of her father, from his walk to the way he handled situations. Even his demeanor was like Simon Jackson.

  She’d always heard that most women marry a man just like their fathers. She’d just never believed that saying would apply to her.

  Chapter 12

  Angela slid the check to the tall, burly mover and shook his hand. He glanced at the check, which included a hefty tip, and smiled.

  “Thank you so much, ma’am. And if you ever need Three Brothers’ Movers again, please don’t hesitate to call.” He smiled again before taking off to the truck.

  Angela closed the door, then turned and surveyed her new home. At twenty-five hundred square feet, it was just right for her and Chase. She loved the hardwood floors, spacious kitchen, and oversize living room. She sighed as she looked at all the boxes. What she wouldn’t give to go back to Atlanta. She had been looking forward to coming home. Her parents were still here and it would do Chase good to be around his grandparents and cousins. But that quickly diminished after she’d found out how far Jonathan would go to be a part of her son’s life.

  “Mama! Did you see my room? It’s so big!” Chase came barreling down the stairs. He could barely contain his excitement.

  “Of course I saw it, baby. I picked it out.”

  “Man, it is so cool,” Chase squealed. “I wish Donnie and Steve could see it.” Angela expected Chase to get a little nostalgic when he talked about his best friends back in Atlanta. But he appeared to have forgotten them already, especially when he noticed the group of boys riding their bikes outside. “Can I go play outside? I wanna meet them boys riding their bikes.”

  “Yes, you may go outside and introduce yourself to those boys riding their bikes,” Angela said.

  Chase ignored her correction and ran outside. Angela smiled. He had never been a shy child. He was such a handsome little boy. He had a head full of curly hair and beautiful brown eyes. Unfortunately, he was the spitting image of his father. It had taken months of counseling for Angela to get over the nauseous feeling she would get every time she looked at him. She would find herself staring at Chase and playing out every moment of her relationship with Jonathan, trying to figure out signs she missed, how she couldn’t have known her husband was gay. And although she hated to admit it, there were times when she’d look at her son, see Jonathan, and find herself getting angry. When she caught Chase playing with Constance’s daughter’s Barbie doll one day, she’d nearly lost it, screaming and throwing the Barbie doll against the wall. It had scared poor Chase to death. That’s when she knew she had to get help.

  Angela had been doing well. Counseling had worked and she had tried her best to move on. It had helped that he hadn’t really tried to see her. He’d sent money and letters, but she’d never responded. Now, everything was changing.

  “And why, pray tell, are you standing here in the middle of your living room with the front door wide open?”

  Angela smiled at her mother, whom she hadn’t even notice walk up. “Hi, Mom.” She reached out and hugged the older woman. “Chase took off to go play and left the door open. I was just staring at him and got lost in thought.”

  “Umm-hmmm,” Mrs. Brooks said as she closed the door. “I saw that little mongrel out there, acting like he didn’t want to kiss me around his new friends.” She laughed. “I absolutely love this place.”

  Angela followed her into the kitchen. “That’s one of the perks of working in corporate America.”

  “All these perks just for buying clothes,” her mother said, shaking her head.

  Angela laughed. There was so much more to her job as a buyer for Macy’s. People thought all she did all day was buy clothes. She fumbled in a box and pulled out a large coffeemaker. “Sit down, I’ll make us some coffee,” she said as she plugged it in.

  Mrs. Brooks moved another box and sat down at the kitchen table. “You have your work cut out for you.”

  “I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve had the movers unpack, too.”

  After fixing both of them a cup of coffee, Angela placed the sugar bowl and cream on the table, then sat down across from her mother.

  “So, have you heard from that lowlife, Jonathan Jackson?” Mrs. Brooks snarled.

  Angela smiled. You’d think her mother was the one Jonathan had hurt. She hated him with every bone in her body. “No, he hasn’t been in contact with me since I got the custody papers, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”

  Mrs. Brooks dropped two sugar cubes in her coffee. “So this silly custody suit is real?”

  “Yes, it’s very real.”

  “I tell you what, you better not let my grandson around that fa—”

  “Mama!”

  Mrs. Brooks shrugged. “What? I call it like I see it. And ain’t no sense in sugarcoating it.”

  “I know, but still.”

  “Fine, I don’t want my grandson around his kind.”

  “Even if it’s his father?”

  “Especially if it’s his father.” Mrs. Brooks sipped her coffee. “I mean, how is that child supposed to understand that?” She shook her head. “And I’m just so disappointed in Reverend Jackson. I hated leaving Zion Hill, but he accepted his son’s amoral behavior and that is just wrong.”

  “I guess you never know how you will react until you’re faced with that situation,” Angela responded. She couldn’t understand why she was taking up for Jonathan. She definitely didn’t agree with his lifestyle choice and she sure as heck didn’t forgive him for what he’d done to her. But her mother was so negative about most things, sometimes she made Angela want to look for the positive. Angela shook that thought away. There were no positives in letting Jonathan see Chase.

  “Please,” Mrs. Brooks responded. “Let your brother come home talking about how he’s gay. As much as me and your father love him, he’s history. The Bible says that God intended for man to be with woman, not man with man. Such is the righteous path of God.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, Mama.” Angela rubbed her temples. Was this what she was going to have to deal with on a regular basis now?

  “Well, you know we will spare no expenses
. We’ll hire the best lawyers, private investigators, whatever it takes, to win this case.” Mrs. Brooks patted Angela’s hand. She looked around before leaning in toward her daughter. “Your daddy swore me to secrecy on this because he didn’t want you to know.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But we already have a private detective following Jonathan.”

  Angela raised her eyebrows in shock. “What? For what?”

  Mrs. Brooks sat back proudly. “You know them funny people engage in deviant sexual behavior. And when Jonathan Jackson goes into one of those gay strip clubs, or picks up some strange man in an adult bookstore, our cameras will be right there to capture him. Once a judge sees those pictures, this will be a nonissue.” She smiled like she had it all figured out.

  Angela sighed. She definitely didn’t agree with her mother’s underhanded ways but she knew it was useless to argue. Besides, she did want to do everything possible to keep Jonathan away from Chase. Maybe that meant she would have to play dirty. And after all the pain Jonathan had caused her, she wasn’t above getting down and dirty. Was she?

  Chapter 13

  Rachel scanned the shelf, trying to find something to pique her interest. She was looking for a good spiritually based book to help her be strong in dealing with the people of Zion Hill.

  She pulled out a new book by Juanita Bynum and started reading the back cover.

  “That’s a good one. I think I’ve read it twice.”

  Rachel turned toward the soft voice. “Hello. Linda Morgan, right?” She remembered the brown-skinned woman with the warm smile from a church leadership conference they had attended together.

  Linda nodded. “How are you today, Sister Adams?”

  “Fine. How are things at St. Luke’s?”

  “Same story, different day. But God is keeping me strong.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but smile. Linda was actually one of the nicest first ladies she’d ever met. She’d even sent Rachel a note telling her to call if she ever needed help with anything, although Rachel had never done so.