Delilah (11 page)

Delilah sprayed her body down with her favorite designer fragrance. Instead of wearing a skirt, she changed into a pair of hip-hugging jeans and a satin low-cut blouse. Satisfied Samson would be salivating before she left him, Delilah drove to the church.

Delilah was thrilled when she noticed Elaine's car was not there. She zoomed into the parking spot next to Samson's SUV. She applied some more ruby red lipstick, puckered her lips, and blew a kiss at herself in the rearview mirror. “Are you ready for me, Samson?”

She exited the car and walked briskly up the walkway to the church. She jiggled the knob on the church front door. “He should keep this door locked,” Delilah's voice echoed as she entered the church. She headed straight to Samson's office.

He seemed to be in deep thought as she stood in the doorway and watched him for a few minutes. “Knock, knock,” she said.

“You came.”

“Yes, four o'clock, remember?” She pointed to the clock on the wall.

“I sent you an e-mail to cancel.”

“But I didn't get it,” Delilah lied. She got it, read it, and hit the delete button without responding.

Samson stood up. “Well, you're here now.”

Delilah reached for the door and closed it.

“It's just us here, so you can leave it open.”

Delilah did as she was told and re-opened the door. “Thank you for taking time to see me today, Samson.”

“Like I told you before, I'm here for you in a pastoral capacity if you need me.”

Delilah sat down in the chair across from his desk. She fanned herself. “It's so hot. I don't know how I'll be able to get through the summer.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Samson asked.

“Water would be fine.”

Samson retrieved a bottle of water out of the mini-refrigerator in his office and handed it to Delilah. She took several sips before placing the bottle on the desk in front of her.

He took a seat and picked up a pen and began writing something on a yellow steno pad. “I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you taking notes of our session,” Delilah said.

“You don't have to worry about anyone else seeing this. As you talk, the notes will help me better counsel you.”

Samson seemed to be in control of things. His reactions were totally opposite of what Delilah expected. She wanted him to sweat. She wanted to feel the heat that normally materialized whenever they were in the same room. Right now, she was feeling nothing. Maybe he really was happy with his new wife.

Melancholy sat in her spirit. She had lost so much. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes. Samson passed her a tissue. “It's okay. Get it out.”

She dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “It all started when my mom died. I've never told anyone this, but my foster parents weren't the nicest of people. In fact, some were downright cruel to me. People think I'm selfish, but I'm really not. I've had to fight for everything I've gotten. Life hasn't always treated me right.”

“Sister Delilah, you appear to be doing well for yourself now, so you have to stop holding on to those ill-gotten feelings. Let the past bury itself.”

“I wish it were that easy. Everything could be going great, but when something life-changing happens, those old thoughts return.” Delilah revealed a part of herself to Samson that no one else got to see. “Your wedding made me remember some things.”

He placed his pen down.” I know you were disappointed about my marriage, but you knew beforehand I was getting married.”

“I'm in no way blaming you for this last episode, Pastor. I was just hoping you could help me exorcise these demons once and for all.” Delilah thought she deserved a Best Actress award for faking sincerity.

“The first thing we need to do, and I should have done this before you started talking, is pray.”

Samson didn't see the smile that replaced Delilah's frown, due to his head being bowed. Delilah added, “Yes, Lord,” in various places as Samson prayed.

“God, we know with You all things are possible. Your daughter needs some supernatural healing, Father, healing of the mind. Heal her so that she can find peace—peace that only you, Lord, can give her.”

Delilah followed his prayer with an “amen.”

Samson ignored the ringing office phone. Seconds later, his cell phone rang. After checking the caller ID he said to Delilah, “That's my wife. Hold on for a minute.”

Delilah crossed and uncrossed her legs as she waited for him to end his call. Samson's demeanor seemed to change. His forehead tensed up. He swiveled his chair around. Delilah could tell something was wrong.

Samson turned the chair back around and faced her. “Sorry about that.”

“Everything okay?” she asked. She really was concerned. He had just gotten married, so there shouldn't be any problems at home. She leaned forward, revealing some cleavage.

Samson's eyes were glued to her chest. He cleared his throat. “This isn't about me, Delilah. It's your time.”

“If there's something you need to take care of, we can do this another time.”

He looked away. “Maybe you're right. But before you go, I want to give you scriptures to read when you get home.” He scribbled on his steno pad and handed a sheet of paper to Delilah.

Delilah reviewed it. “Matthew fifth chapter and the sixth chapter of Luke.”

“I want you to think about forgiving the people in your past who have wronged you. Reading those scriptures should help. Read them daily and meditate on them.”

“Can I come back tomorrow around the same time?” Delilah asked.

He glanced through the calendar on his desk. “I don't see anything scheduled, so four tomorrow is fine.”

“Great.” Delilah extended her hand to shake his.

“Be careful,” Samson said as he shook Delilah's hand.

“I will.” She bent over to retrieve the paper she let slide onto the floor. “See you tomorrow,” she said before leaving the room.

Samson remained seated. He didn't want Delilah to see the effect she had on him. If Julia ever found out, she would be devastated. The last thing Samson wanted to do was commit adultery in his heart. Once his office door was closed, he picked up his Bible, and the pages automatically flipped open to Proverbs chapter six, verse twenty-five: “
Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids
.”

He knew in his heart this was a sign from God. “Lord, I love my wife. I want to build a life with my wife.”

Samson continued to read more scriptures. As he read, his sermon for the following week came to him. He jotted down some notes. Time had crept by. The phone ringing jolted him out of his deep thoughts of meditation.

“What time are you coming home?” Julia asked from the other end of his cell phone.

“Baby, I'm sorry. I started reading and praying. Time just got away from me.”

He couldn't tell if Julia was upset from her tone. “I'm almost through cooking. It should be ready by the time you get here.”

“Give me at least thirty minutes. I'm almost through working on my sermon.” They ended their call, and Samson typed up some more notes on his computer before logging off. He locked up his office and the church and jumped in his SUV.

Traffic stood still on I-49. He called Julia to alert her. This time there was no mistaking what mood she was in.

“Is this something I should expect every night?” she snapped.

“Julia, you know better than that. I got lost in time, that's all.”

“I'll have to warm the food up when you get here.”

Samson didn't want to argue. He said good-bye and discontinued the call. He listened to a gospel CD as he weaved in and out of traffic. When he finally made it home, Julia greeted him at the door with a hug and kiss. “Sorry about earlier,” she apologized. “I've had time to cool off, and I don't want to argue.”

“All's forgiven,” Samson responded.

“Go get washed up, and I'll bring the food to the table.”

Being married to Julia was definitely different from dating her. Her demeanor had changed. He tried to understand her frustrations, but what she didn't take into consideration was that not being able to consummate their relationship also affected him. He pulled the printout he had about Viagra out of his briefcase. He laughed out loud. He was only thirty years old and never thought he would need a pill to help him perform. If his friends only knew. He threw the printout back in his briefcase.

The aroma of the food filled the air when he entered the dining room. Julia filled his plate with food and waited for him to take her hand in his to say grace. The conversation over dinner reminded him of a bad date. Julia's recounting the conversations she had with his mother earlier that day bored him. Maybe when Julia went back to work as plant manager she would have something more exciting to talk about.

“The food was good,” Samson said.

“Thanks,” Julia responded.

Samson went to his study while Julia cleared the dinner table and went to wash dishes. He retrieved his medical insurance information. He wrote down the information he needed so he could make a doctor's appointment the following day.

He leaned back in his chair and placed his legs on top of the desk. He owed his father a call. He picked up the phone and dialed his father's number. Regis answered on the third ring.

“Kelly tells me she feels something isn't right with you and Julia. Y'all having problems already son,” Regis had asked after their greeting.

Samson closed his eyes. “We're okay. Trying to get adjusted. I forgot to thank you for helping to move her stuff in while we were gone.” Samson hoped it would steer the conversation in another direction.

“That's what family's for. Now back to you and Julia. You know I do have a little experience under my belt when it comes to women.” Regis chuckled.

Samson recalled hearing Regis and some of his friends brag about their younger days. Regis claimed to have calmed down when he met and married Samson's mother. Samson trembled. It sickened him to even think about his parents being intimate. He wouldn't dare talk to his father about the real problem within his and Julia's relationship. “We'll be all right, but thanks for your concern.”

“Kelly wants to speak with you.”

“Tell her I'll call her back,” Samson said.

“Too late. She's on the phone,” Regis responded.

His mother couldn't see him, but he automatically removed his feet from the desk and sat up. “Hi, Mom.”

“You need to take care of your wife soon, son,” Kelly stated.

“Excuse me?” Samson said in a high-pitched voice.

“Don't take that tone with me. You're not too old for me to knock you down a peg or two.”

“What did Julia tell you?”

“Julia didn't tell me anything. I overheard her talking on the phone to one of her friends when she was at our house. You know there's medicine for your problem.”

Samson, infuriated, held back his temper. “Look, Mom. I've heard enough. I've got to go.”

“Remember what I said. Get you some medicine.”

“I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but this is an issue between me and my wife.”

“Well, if you want to keep your wife happy, you better get you some help.”

“Good night, Mama.” Samson slammed the phone down on the desk.

Steam seeped through Samson's pours. He paced the floor a few times. “One, two, three…” he counted out loud. He did his best to calm down as he went in search of Julia.

Samson stood in the doorway and watched Julia for a few minutes. Julia, oblivious to Samson's mood, moved her head up and down as she listened to the music coming from her headphones.

Samson walked up to her and snatched them from her ears.

“Hey, what's your problem?” Julia asked.

“I can't believe you,” Samson yelled.

Julia, used to seeing a calm and mellow Samson, blinked a few times. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Lying will only get you in deeper.” Samson stood with folded arms. “Why were you discussing our bedroom issue with your friend and at my mom's of all places?”

“So what if your mom heard me talking to Cookie. She's a woman. She's got needs too.”

“I didn't know I married a sex fiend.”

“I didn't know I married a hypocrite either.”

The evening went nothing like Samson had planned. For now they were at a standstill. He's a preacher. He shouldn't be having these types of problems. Two people were in love, but sex stood in the way of them being happy.

While in bed that night, Julia wouldn't allow him to touch her. She moved her body close to the edge of her side of the bed. Samson, frustrated, lay on his back and closed his eyes. He went to sleep wondering if marrying Julia was a good idea.

Delilah eased her car into the tight parking space in front of Keisha's hair salon and went inside. Every chair in the salon seemed to be filled. “What's up, Ms. Thing?” the receptionist said when Delilah entered.

“Is Keisha available? I need something done with this mess.” Delilah ran her hands through her hair.

“I'll check.” The receptionist yelled on the intercom. “Keisha, Ms. Thing is here.” She looked at Delilah. “Just kidding.” She spoke back into the intercom. “I mean Ms. Delilah.”

Delilah was in a jovial mood, so she ignored the receptionist. The phone at the desk rang. The receptionist looked up at Delilah. “She said come on back.”

Delilah spoke as she passed the stylists and went toward the back of the salon where she found Keisha styling someone's hair.

“You might as well have a seat and relax. You're my last client today so don't trip if we're here all night,” Keisha told her.

Delilah hated coming in the evening for that very reason. She liked to be at the beauty shop for only two hours max, but because she and Keisha were friends and she did her hair pro bono, she came whenever Keisha could fit her into her busy schedule.

Delilah picked up a recent issue of a fashion magazine. She marveled at how dowdy some of the clothes looked for such extravagant prices. She was no fashion guru, but she did have a sense of style, and some of the things critics claimed were the in thing for the season shouldn't be seen anywhere in public, in her opinion.

Keisha dished out advice to some of her patrons. One woman was dealing with a cheating husband. Marsha, one of Keisha's regular customers who was now on her third husband, said, “Now ladies, don't get into a frenzy with what I'm about to say because you know I'm usually like, if he cheats, he'll cheat again so leave him. But, Cassandra, in your case, your husband has done everything you've asked of him, so why not give him another chance?”

Cassandra responded, “Because I'm just tired. He claimed he cheated one time, but I don't believe him. I've resorted to doing sneaky stuff like checking his phone records and car mileage. I even cracked the code to his voice mail, and I call his phone all day just to check it.”

“How did you get his password?” Keisha asked as she curled Cassandra's hair with the curling iron.

“Put it like this: Most men like to keep their passwords simple. He used one of our kids' birthdays.”

“Wow. So did you discover anything?”

“No, but that doesn't mean anything. All I know is I can't keep living like this. Divorcing him would give me peace of mind.”

“Stay with him and cheat on him if that'll make you feel better,” one of the other beauticians said.

“Two wrongs don't make it right,” Keisha said. “Peace of mind is priceless, and if you have to leave him to get it, do you, sister.”

“I know that's right,” several of the women near them said.

An elderly woman interjected her opinion. “Back in my day, we didn't divorce our men. If he wanted to act up, let him. He has to answer to God for everything that he's doing.”

“But, Mrs. Pearl, why should she stay with him just because? Adultery is grounds for divorce,” Keisha said.

“Young lady, I think I know more about relationships, seeing how I'm seventy-two years old,” Mrs. Pearl snapped.

Keisha stopped curling Cassandra's hair. “Yes, ma'am. I was just saying.”

Delilah listened but didn't interject her thoughts. From the discussions going on in the beauty shop, whether young or old, she wasn't the only woman dealing with her share of drama.

Two hours later, Delilah sat in Keisha's chair. “I'm glad you let me clip your ends,” Keisha said.

It was late, and the beauty shop had cleared out. There were only a few other stylists and clients remaining in the shop. Delilah removed the picture of the model with the hair style she wanted from her purse and handed it to Keisha. “I want it just like this.”

Keisha viewed the picture. “I can do that.” She turned on the crimp iron and waited for it to warm up. “So have you thought about what I said?”

Delilah looked around. No one appeared to be paying attention to their conversation. “I have a confession to make. I think he and his wife are having problems.”

“Delilah, you know you like to exaggerate, and why would he confide in you about his relationship with his wife anyway?”

“He didn't actually verbalize it. I can just tell.”

“We need to find you another man so you can stop bugging about Samson.”

Delilah gave Keisha an “I'm innocent” look. “What?” she asked. “Don't nobody up in here know him, so what if I said his name.”

“Just in case, let's keep his name out of it.”

“See, now you know you must not be doing something right if you have to keep it all hush-hush.”

“Don't trip just because I don't like my business all out in the streets,” Delilah snapped.

“Testy.” Keisha held up the crimp iron. “One piece of advice—never piss off your mailman or the lady who is about to do your hair.”

Delilah looked up and saw Keisha's facial expression in the mirror. Keisha burst out laughing. Delilah said, “Girl, I was about to hop out the chair. You weren't going to touch me with that attitude.”

Keisha swiveled the chair around. “You know I was just playing with you. But seriously though, if you want to get your mail, don't piss your mailman off.”

They both laughed. Keisha had just applied the holding spray when Delilah's phone rang. One of Yolanda Adams' songs played as the ring tone. Delilah picked up the call right before it went to voice mail.

“It's about time you answered your phone. I've left several messages,” Luther, the guy she met at Samson and Julia's wedding reception, said.

“Apparently, I haven't felt like talking,” Delilah responded.

Keisha stood to the side with her hands on her hip.

“Look, I'm getting my hair done. I'll call you back later.” Delilah hit the end button on her phone and placed it back in her purse.

“Who was that?” Keisha asked as soon as Delilah got off the phone.

“Nobody important. Just a bugaboo.”

Keisha fixed a few stray strands on Delilah's head. “Anyway, back to you-know-who. If that man ever found out you were setting him up, do you think he would have anything to do with you?”

“I can handle my man,” Delilah said, deluding herself. Delilah hoped Samson never found out her original mission for befriending him. She didn't want to give him a reason to cut all ties with her. She was not prepared to live without Samson in her life, even if his only role was as her pastor.