Everybody Say Amen (6 page)

R
achel 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?”

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.

T
wyla 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 younger 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.

“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.”