The Real Housewives of Adverse City

by Shelia E. Bell

  “I plan to be here. You just don’t know, these counseling sessions have made a huge difference in my life,” the woman said.

  “To God be the glory,” Carlton responded.

  Peyton looked around, following the sound of familiar voices.

  “Avery?” Peyton said in a surprised tone when she saw Avery and Carlton appear from around the corner.

  “Good day, Sister Hudson,” Carlton spoke to Peyton.

  “Hello, Pastor. You’re just the man I need to see.” Peyton looked briefly at Mrs. Fentress and rolled her eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” Avery asked, stopping the exchange.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Avery glanced back at Carlton and then looked at the nosy receptionist who was watching and listening like she was tuned in to a soap opera.

  “Pastor Porter has been my spiritual counselor since, well, since you know…” Avery leaned in and said softly, “since I got out of the hospital.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Peyton whispered back. “You never told me, or any of the housewives, at least I don’t guess you told the others.” Peyton stepped back and looked peeved.

  Avery didn’t bother addressing Peyton’s remark. “What are you doing here?” she asked instead.

  “I can use some spiritual counseling of my own,” Peyton answered.

  “Um, is that right? Well, I can tell you that Pastor has helped me understand a lot about God’s love and self-forgiveness.” Avery smiled and looked at Carlton who nodded and returned her smile.

  “That’s good, Avery,” Peyton said.

  “Well, look, I’ve got to get out of here. I have some errands to run. We’ll talk later. Thank you again, Pastor.”

  “You’re welcome and God bless you, Sister Avery,” Carlton said in return, placing his hand on the center of her back as he guided her toward the exit and held the door open for her.

  Avery walked off, strolling confidently away in a striking Stella McCartney pantsuit.

  Carlton turned and walked away from the door. “How can I help you, Sister Hudson?” Carlton asked Peyton as he took a quick glance over his shoulder in time to see Avery open the door to her car and get inside.

  Mrs. Fentress spoke up. “Pastor Porter, I tried to tell her that she would need to schedule an appointment, but she refused.” The receptionist cut her eyes at Peyton.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Fentress. I’ll see her. My next appointment isn’t set to arrive until much later.” He walked up to the counter.

  “Yes, Pastor Porter. No problem.”

  Mrs. Fentress, looking perturbed, rolled her eyes at Peyton all while smiling as she responded to Pastor Porter. She knew exactly who Peyton Hudson was. She, along with the one who’d just left was one of the three women who were good friends with the First Lady. They were rich and uppity and all of them, except the first lady, acted like the sun rose and set on their behinds.

  Mrs. Fentress and some of the other senior citizen church women would often gossip about how the housewives paraded in the church Sunday after Sunday in their fancy heels, wearing their expensive garb, and carrying their designer handbags.

  “Thank you for seeing me, Pastor Porter. I promise I won’t take up much of your time,” she told Carlton as she strolled confidently pass the receptionist counter and toward Carlton without acknowledging Mrs. Fentress.

  “Mrs. Fentress, please see if the small conference room down the hall is available. No need to go all the way back to my office,” he said, looking at Peyton.

  “Sure. Give me a few minutes,” Mrs. Fentress replied.

  “How are you?” Pastor Porter stated, trying to sound like he wasn’t worried about what he felt Peyton had come to see him about. He hadn’t heard from nor seen Breyonna since their last encounter, and she refused to leave information on how to get in touch with her. He prayed that her disappearance meant she had decided to leave things as they were.

  Carlton tried to think of ways that he could tell Meesha about Liam, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized there was no easy way. Once she found out that he had a son, and that son was Peyton’s kid, then she would be the one running to divorce court. The fact that he had a mistress was bad enough, but this situation right here? And the media? The media would have a field day and his ministry could go to ruins.

  Carlton had to find a way to keep Breyonna from divulging his dirty laundry. The news about him and Meesha getting a divorce would be out soon enough. That, coupled with the possibility of Peyton’s kid being his, and his life could be ripped apart. He didn’t want things to blow up any sooner than he knew they were about to. He was sorry for some of the things he’d done in his past. Unearthing them could not only affect his life now, but he could only imagine what it would do to a youngster like Liam. It had been a blessing for Carlton to watch the boy grow up and become a responsible, kind, and smart young man who had a lot going for himself.

  “So how long have you been counseling her?”

  “You know I can’t discuss that.”

  “Dang, Carlton. It’s no secret that she tried to kill herself, so I assume that it’s at least been since then, huh?”

  “Look, let’s not talk about Avery. Have you heard from Breyonna?”

  Peyton trembled as she sat at the middle section of the oblong oak table across from Carlton. “No, and that’s why I’m here. I have a weird feeling that she’s up to something, and it can’t be good.” She waited on Carlton’s response, hoping he could tell her that he had somehow convinced Breyonna to leave well enough alone.

  Carlton shook his head, glancing up from time to time at the closed conference room door as if he expected Breyonna to burst inside any minute. “I haven’t heard from her either. That worries me.”

  “You know her better than I do. What do you think is going on with her? I mean, she won’t accept our offers of money, and she says she won’t leave Adverse City without seeing Liam. She goes from threatening us to not hearing from her at all.”

  “Breyonna was the kind of girl who was after any guy who she thought could offer her a privileged life. In the end, she let drugs get the best of her. And you and her, well, I never told you, but that hurt me, Carlton. That hurt me really bad,” Peyton confessed. A sad countenance filled her face.

  Carlton shifted his eyes from Peyton. He rested his head in his hands for a couple of seconds. “I was sorry back then and I’m sorry now.”

  His words sounded so sincere and for the first time in all these years, Peyton felt like she could forget about Carlton’s betrayal of the love she thought they once shared.

  “I used to think she was cool because while you were serious most of the time, Breyonna liked to party. Me, I was serious about my studies, but I liked to party then, too.” Carlton sighed deeply. “You know the history. No need to go down that road again.”

  “I hope you aren’t trying to slick blame me for your screw up,” Peyton retorted.

  Carlton raised both hands in surrender. “Please, just let it go. After all these years, you still haven’t forgiven me. But there’s nothing I can do about it now, Peyton. All of that’s in the past.”

  “If it was all in the past it wouldn’t be affecting us today, now would it? The past is what’s trying to ruin both of our lives, Carlton! And my marriage is already on shaky ground. Breyonna was always jealous of me and of our relationship back then. And to this day, I do not know why.” Peyton started crying. “Why did she have to come here? If she cared about Liam, she would leave Adverse City and never come back.”

  Carlton reached out and laid his hand on top of Peyton’s. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He looked up and around again toward the door. “We’re going to figure this out. If we know one thing about Breyonna, she may say she doesn’t want money, but we both know that she can be bought. We just have to find her price.”

  “I don’t feel like that anymore, because if she wanted money so badly, then why wouldn’t she accept our offe
rs? What are we going to do?” Peyton almost sounded hysterical as her voice rose and her eyes flooded with tears. Her hands trembled underneath Carlton’s hand.

  “What we have to do is keep our cool. I’m praying for direction. I’m standing on God’s word. First Corinthians ten and thirteen says, no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

  “That sounds good, Carlton. Sounds real good, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m scared and to tell you the truth, I don’t feel good about not hearing from her. We have to do something.”

  “Look, I’ll try to find her. I promise.”

  “She’s been planning this for a while,” Peyton said.

  Peyton questioned her sensibility. How could she have taken another woman’s child without pressing Breyonna to give her legal guardianship? What was she thinking back then? Then again, she quickly reminded herself that Breyonna didn’t want the boy; didn’t want anything but her next high. Now here it was, years later and this woman was in Adverse City for payback. And if she didn’t get what she wanted, like a tornado, Breyonna was ready to destroy everyone in her path.

  Carlton got up and walked around to where Peyton was sitting. He reached down and took hold of her hand and tugged on it slightly until she stood up. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into his chest. She leaned in and allowed her tears to fall upon his suit coat and her head to rest against him.

  The knock on the door startled them. Peyton’s head popped up. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes as Carlton pushed a chair out of his way and pounced toward the door.

  “Yes, what is it?” he asked when he opened the door and saw his administrative assistant, Jeanine, standing on the other side.

  Jeanine’s doe-shaped eyes wandered past him as she stole a look at Peyton. It wasn’t often that he used the small conference room near the side entrance of the church. It was usually reserved for small meetings held by the staff, so she was curious when Mrs. Fentress told her about Peyton Hudson’s sudden appearance. Something wasn’t right. Not only had Peyton popped up without an appointment to see the pastor, now there was another woman insisting on seeing him, too. This woman was in stark contrast to the fabulosity of Peyton.

  Jeanine didn’t recall ever seeing the woman before, but with an active membership of over 20,000, there was no way she knew every single person that walked through the church doors insisting on seeing the pastor. They did it all the time; many with agendas that included trying to seduce the pastor in any way that they could. They would come waltzing in the church during the week with all sorts of excuses and reasons for needing to see him. Jeanine and Mrs. Fentress, too, could practically smell whether they were in real need of pastoral counseling or if they were there to entice Pastor Carlton into something ungodly.

  Rumor had it that he had asked the first lady for a divorce, but Jeanine didn’t believe it. She was privy to much confidential information and overheard many a surprising conversation between the pastor and his trusted deacons. There were times she overhead him counseling some of the church members, too. Their complaints ranged from troubled children to incest among family members to dealing with sexual identity and criminal acts. There was practically no subject that she hadn’t heard mentioned, but she kept it all confidential. Well, at least most of it.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Pastor Porter, but there’s someone who insists on seeing you,” Jeanine whispered. “I told her you were unavailable and tried to get her to make an appointment.”

  “Have Minister Davis or one of the other ministers on call to see her. I’m in an important meeting right now. So please, do not disturb me again.” He didn’t want to come off sounding irritated with Jeanine, but how many times did he have to remind her that they had a full staff of ministers who were trained counselors. It was their job to listen and provide assistance to the church. No one man could possibly do it all.

  “Yes, Pastor Porter. I’m sorry.”

  Jeanine glimpsed over her shoulder as Pastor Porter closed the door. Whatever he and Peyton Hudson were talking about seemed serious. Jeanine could tell from the look on Pastor Porter’s face. His eyeballs bulged like someone who had thyroid problems and though it was an otherwise cool and calm fall day, beads of sweat clung to the pastor’s head.

  From what Jeanine could see of Peyton Hudson, she looked flustered too. Was Peyton the reason for the rumors about Pastor and the first lady’s troubled marriage? She shook her head briefly as the illicit thought played out in her mind. Pastor Porter was a man true enough, but the Pastor Porter she had come to love and respect was no adulterer…at least she hoped he wasn’t.

  “I can’t believe that you never told me you were Liam’s father. And you were going to Memphis sleeping with her and from what she says, you and her would get high together, too? Oh, my God, Carlton, what were you thinking? Was getting high and screwing someone like Breyonna worth it? Look at what you’ve gotten yourself into…and me. I thought it was another one of Breyonna’s lies when she first told me all those years ago that you were Liam’s daddy. How could you watch him grow up practically before your eyes, and not tell me that he was yours?”

  “What makes you think I knew? And who says that she’s telling the truth. That woman can’t be trusted. There’s no telling how many men she’s slept with. Any one of them could be his father.”

  Peyton stared at him. “Didn’t you know?”

  “No. Not until Breyonna showed up here. Tell me something, does Liam happen to have a birthmark?”

  “A birthmark? Uh, yes. He has a small star-shaped birthmark on his inner right thigh.”

  Carlton closed his eyes at the same time both his hands covered his face.

  “What is it, Carlton?”

  “That confirms it more than DNA ever could,” he said. “I have the same birthmark in the same place.”

  She swallowed hard, and her head swooned like she was about to pass out.

  Suddenly, they both jumped at the booming sound of an irate female’s voice spilling over from the other side of the conference room door.

  “Stay here,” Carlton ordered Peyton as he jumped up, opened the door, and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

  “I told you, lady, I’m not going nowhere. Not until I see Carlton Porter. Do you hear me?”

  Carlton heard Breyonna yelling and cussing Jeanine and Mrs. Fentress.

  “Call Security,” Jeanine ordered Mrs. Fentress.

  “Call whoever you want to call. I’m not leaving. Not until I see Carlton.”

  Carlton bolted toward the sound of the voice.

  “What’s going on out here?” Carlton asked, almost afraid of the answer he might get from Breyonna.

  How dare she just show up at my church. What is she trying to do? Ruin me?

  Peyton listened from the conference room. Breyonna had come here? Oh my God, what was she going to do? She cowered behind the door and listened out of sight as best she could.

  “You better tell these church groupies of yours to back off,” Breyonna warned, spewing an if-looks-could-kill kind of scowl on her face. “I swear, you’ll be sorry if you don’t tell them to back off.”

  Carlton’s palm showed in the air as he halted Mrs. Fentress. “Mrs. Fentress. Jeanine, let me talk to her before you call Security.”

  Both of the women looked shocked, but they slowly nodded in agreement.

  He walked with the quickness up to Breyonna, grabbed her firmly by her elbow, and roughly led her outside the doors of the church while Jeanine and Mrs. Fentress stared on in amazement.

  Once outside, he said, “What are you trying to do?” Carlton swore under his breath, still firmly holding on to Breyonna’s emaciated arm.

  Unsuccessfully, she tried to break free, but Carlton refused to loosen his grip.

  “How dare you come here c
ausing a scene. I’m done dealing with your mess. If you don’t leave me alone; if you don’t get out of my life, I swear as God is my witness…”

  “Hah, You? Swearing? A church boy like you?” Breyonna snarled, showing her teeth like a rabid dog. “You go ahead and call Security. Call the police. Call whoever you want to call but I promise you this Carlton Porter, if you and Peyton don’t let me see my son in the next twenty-four hours, I’m not only going to the nearest television station, I’m going to be knocking on both you and Peyton’s doorsteps, and I’m going to be singing like a bird.”

  This time Breyonna managed to break free from Carlton. She laughed wickedly as she stormed down the sidewalk leading away from the church.

  Carlton watched her as she got inside the same red and black Malibu he’d seen her in before. The driver from what Carlton could tell looked like the same gruffy and unkempt dude.

  The car sped off with Breyonna’s middle finger raised high up in the air and pointing toward Carlton as the car left the smell of burning rubber behind.

  Carlton watched until the car was no longer in his range of vision, then he turned and rushed back inside.

  “Are you all right, Pastor?” Jeanine asked.

  Visibly shaken, Mrs. Fentress said, “I’ll call the police.”

  “No,” Pastor Porter halted her in a biting tone of voice, one that both women were not used to hearing.

  Realizing his tone, he spoke in a more calm voice. “Look, no need to call the police. She’s gone.”

  Both of the women’s mouths dropped open.

  Carlton rushed past Jeanine and Mrs. Fentress and bolted toward the conference room where he’d left Peyton. He didn’t stop until he had walked in and closed the door behind him. Then he took in a deep breath before closing his eyes and releasing it.

  Peyton rushed up to him.

  “We have to tell Derek and Meesha.”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “And it’s time to tell Liam too.”

  Peyton closed her eyes. The rapid pounding of her heart rendered her helpless. She felt herself slithering to the floor. Suddenly something or someone caught her fall, but not before her eyes closed and her conscious mind drifted to an unknown place. A place that momentarily gave her a means of escape from a life that was rapidly headed on a collision course.