Double Dippin' (25 page)

“What!”

“Pretend like you’re Shane. Suck on it like he does.”

“I gotchu, baby,” Brick said soothingly.

“And baby…”

“What?”

“Can I call you Shane?”

“Uh huh,” he grunted as he began to circle her clit with the tip of his tongue.

Misty imagined Shane’s lips—his beautiful full lips. His lips looked naturally outlined and were darker than his reddish-brown skin. They were smooth and perfect as if he were wearing a muted shade of dark lipstick. When he parted his pretty lips, giving just a hint of a smile, the glimmer of perfect white teeth
dazzled Misty to the point of making her knees go weak. Damn, she loved that pretty muthafucker.

“Oh, that feels so good,” Misty moaned. “Goddamn, Shane. I love you, boy. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, baby; I love you, too,” Brick said, speaking in a tone similar to Shane’s.

S
hane was a blessing in her life but Dolores Holmes sorely regretted having to give up her church. The members from her old congregation would never forgive her for taking up with the boy whose lies—as far the church members were concerned—had landed her in jail.

But it didn’t feel right just reading the Bible at home. She had to find herself a new church and church members with whom she could fellowship.

If Shane loved her like he said he did, he’d accompany her into the Lord’s house every now and then. A little bit of holiness would do the boy some good. Maybe he’d stop all that crying if he turned himself over to the Lord. Wasn’t nothing but Satan working on his spirit and causing him all that inner torment and misery.

She poured a quarter cup of evaporated milk into a saucepan and added a little sugar to sweeten it up. With the burner turned low, she went in the bathroom to freshen up. No sooner had she put on her robe and brassiere when she heard her boy’s key in the door. He came in looking agitated and near tears, pulling on her robe and tugging on her bra.

“Go sit on the couch, honey pie. Give me a second. I’ll be right there.” She poured the warm milk in a cup and lifted up her bra and dipped her nipple into the cup. She repeated the procedure with her other breast.

With the cup set on the end table, she pulled Shane over to her, cradled him in her arms, and nursed him until he was soothed and satisfied. With his face resting peacefully against her breasts, she stroked his hair and hummed a Christian hymn.

“Shane.”

“Hmm.”

“You know what I miss?”

“What?”

“Church, baby. I miss going to church.”

“But you can’t go back to that church.”

“I know but there’s nothing stopping me joining another one.”

Shane was silent for a moment. “Can you find a church in the phone book?”

“Yes, but I saw one right around the corner.”

Shane lifted his head. “What were you doing going around the corner? You know I don’t want you walking nowhere.”

“Boy, when you call me on the phone crying and carrying on, what am I supposed to do if we don’t have that milk you like in the house? You sounded so upset, I got up and walked around the corner to the store.”

“Mom, you gotta tell me when we need stuff around here.”

“I know, but we ran out of that evaporated milk real quick and you’re to the point where you won’t take my tit without the milk.”

“Okay, so now that I know how fast it runs out, I’ll start buying it by the case. Next time we run out, just tell me when I get home, I’ll go get it. You too heavy to be walking around outside. You start breathing hard just trying to make it from the living room to the kitchen. And you’re startin’ to scare me,” he added, looking nervous.

“Oh, I’m all right. I just gotta lose some of this weight.” She patted a meaty hip.

Shane rubbed her big belly and then laid his head in her lap. “I love all this fat.”

Ms. Holmes bent over and kissed his forehead. They’d never kissed passionately on the lips. Their relationship didn’t require that.

“Well, baby, how am I going to get to the church if you don’t want me to walk?”

“Take a cab.”

“Around the corner?”

“Why not?”

She inhaled. “Well, I was wondering about something.”

“What’s that?”

“I feel kind of shy joining a new church. Do you think you could make some time out for me and take me to church?”

His face was turned away from her, therefore, she didn’t see him frown. She heard him say, “Okay, Mom. I’ll go with you.”

“Oh Hallelujah! You’re finally going to have a relationship with your Lord and Master, sweet baby Jesus! Shane, I’m so proud of you. I never cared what other people said about you, I knew ol’ Satan couldn’t keep his evil grip on my boy.”

It was times like this, when she got all religious on him and started talking like a religious fanatic, that Shane wished he were somewhere else. His peace was broken, but it was too late to go out looking for a quick fix. Besides, he was too tired to go back out.

“You gonna stay up and watch TV?” he asked.

“No, I’m gonna sit out here and read my Bible.”

“Okay, I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, honey pie,” she said, smiling and reaching for the Bible.

Shane went in the bedroom, closed the door, and rolled a blunt. He needed to get high after hearing all those hallelujahs.

An hour or so later, Ms. Holmes got in bed beside him wearing a cotton nightgown. He was asleep but sensed she was near. Snuggling up next, he rubbed on her back and then groaned. Even in his sleep, he didn’t like fabric between them. He needed to feel her flesh with its many folds and cushiony flab.

Shane didn’t own a suit, but he looked well groomed and handsome enough in a white shirt and dark blue slacks to turn heads when he and Ms. Holmes entered the church the following Sunday.

During the middle of the service, the visiting pastor, Reverend Daniels, asked the parishioners to bow their heads in prayer for Reverend Bradley, who was recovering from a long illness. After the prayer, he called for all guests to rise and come to the front of the church and introduce themselves. As Shane and Ms. Holmes walked down the aisle toward the short line of guests, a sea
of ornate and intricately designed hats all turned at the same time, curiously observing the mother and scrutinizing the son with keen interest.

Later, downstairs in the church’s basement, where lunch was being served, Ms. Holmes was treated like a queen. Smiling women offered to make her and her son plates with choices of homemade fried chicken, roast beef, macaroni and cheese, collards, yams, green beans, potato salad, cornbread, rolls, and a host of desserts.

“You see,” Ms. Holmes said before biting into a piece of cornbread, “coming to God’s house is like coming home.”

Shane shook his head in solemn agreement. He was suffering in the religious atmosphere, but it was a small price to pay to please the woman he loved.

“Here you are, Ms. Holmes,” said an attractive, statuesque woman. The woman was stunningly well dressed in a tailored suit. She looked to be in her early forties, but it was hard to put an age on a woman that well put together. As she bent to hand Ms. Holmes a cup of fruit juice, she turned her face toward Shane and winked.

“My name is Felicia Bradley. I’m the pastor’s wife as well as president of the Women’s Auxiliary,” she said with a confident smile.

“I’m Dolores Holmes and this is my son, Shane.”

“Ms. Holmes,” Felicia Bradley replied seriously, “we’d be honored if you and your son would consider joining our church. My husband has been the pastor of this church for fifteen years. I’m sorry you’re not able to meet him at this time. He’s a wonderful pastor. Since he’s been on board, we’ve added a day care center, a literacy program, a Meals on Wheels program for the shut-ins. I could go on and on about the wonderful things my husband has done for Bright Hope Memorial.” Mrs. Bradley spoke in glowing tones about her husband, but then her smile dimmed. “My husband is in poor health right now, but we haven’t missed a beat here at Bright Hope Memorial. I offer my assistance to our visiting pastor and I make sure the church still functions in a manner in which my husband would approve.”

“It does seem like a lovely church,” Ms. Holmes said, looking around approvingly. “The people are very nice. Me and my boy will think about it and let you know.” She peered at Shane, her eyes beseeching him to consent to joining
the church, but Shane’s eyes wandered, refusing to meet his foster mother’s gaze.

Felicia Bradley forged ahead. “While you’re making a decision, perhaps you’d be interested in participating in some of our committees—you know, to get a feel of the spirit of Bright Hope Memorial.” She flashed another dazzling smile. “We’re involved in community service work and we—”

“It sounds wonderful, but my health isn’t so good…”

“Oh, I certainly understand.” The woman turned to Shane. “You know, we like to keep our young people busy and some of our activities include young men.” On the sly, she gave Shane a seductive smile.

With a quick wink and a head nod, Shane assured Felicia Bradley that he was willing to accommodate her in whatever she wanted to get into—within reason. He was certain she knew not to come at him with any further talk of community service. Giving the pretty preacher’s wife a tune-up was the only kind of service he was interested in performing.

Felicia Bradley gave Shane her card and told him to give her a call at his earliest convenience. She was the kind of woman who went after what she wanted without hesitation. She was about her business and played no games; he could dig it.

Next, she dug into her purse and pulled out a Blackberry and turned to Dolores Holmes. “Ms. Holmes, may I have your telephone number? I’d like to stay in touch with you. Bright Hope has a meal delivery service and being that you’re a senior in failing health, I’m sure you fit the criteria.” She bent over, speaking to Ms. Holmes directly. “Now, this service is limited to members only, but I can pull a few strings.” She gave Ms. Holmes a conspiratorial wink this time.

After getting Ms. Holmes’s information and welcoming them once more, Felicia Bradley walked away. The faint smile she wore conveyed she was satisfied with the connection she’d made.

Ms. Holmes was gushing from all that attention from the preacher’s wife. “Now see that, Shane. You’ve just been invited to fellowship by the reverend’s wife and she’s going to get me placed on a meal service. Now isn’t that something.” Ms. Holmes patted Shane’s hand and looked up at him, smiling with pride and joy.

“She’s a real important woman and I want you to show off your good home training. Make sure you give that lady a call.” Ms. Holmes, overcome with pride, began to fan herself. “Lord, my boy’s going to be fellowshipping with the saints.” Ms. Holmes shook her head in pleasant amazement.

No matter which direction Shane turned his eyes, there were females, varying in age from sixteen to sixty, giving him suggestive looks. All trying to make his acquaintance.

Shane never dreamed that going to church could present so many possibilities.

Wheeling a new BMW M5, Felicia Bradley rolled into the lot of their designated meeting spot, an Exxon service station on Sixty-Third Street.

Shane flashed a grin when he saw the expensive car. He had to restrain himself from whistling at Felicia’s top-of-the-line set of wheels. The sleek, sexy car was giving him a powerful erection. He felt a rush of anticipation and instantly began plotting on how to finagle his very affluent female admirer into letting him borrow the car at a later date.

He slid inside. “You look beautiful,” he told Felicia, but his eyes were focused on the vehicle’s plush interior. Shane shifted his gaze to Felicia and attentively leaned over to kiss her cheek, but Felicia grimaced. She dodged Shane’s kiss as if his lips carried an incurable communicable disease.

Shane flinched. Having a woman shun his advances was an unfamiliar and unpleasant experience.

“Please! Not here. One never knows who’s watching,” she explained in an admonishing tone. With her lips pursed tightly, Felicia’s eyes darted about as she suspiciously investigated the service station lot for prying eyes.