Authors: Lutishia Lovely
Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Christian, #Contemporary Women
“I don’t want to talk to him.” Princess was talking on speaker phone and texting at the same time. She was sitting in her new high-rise condo, just a couple blocks from the ocean in Long Beach. The view from her balcony was stunning. Princess had fallen in love with the place the moment she walked inside, which was shortly after she’d decided to stay in LA instead of moving back home. She was only renting now, but the owner had talked of selling it later. Princess let her know in no uncertain terms that if she could afford it when that time came, she’d be the first in line to buy.
“But his agent has called several times,” Natalie responded. “Every day. He says it’s very important, Princess, and I believe him. Something to do with his son being ill, very ill. I don’t think he’d use his son as a tool like that, just to get to you, do you?”
Princess struggled to go past anger and resentment and find compassion and unconditional love. But it was hard. The boy they were talking about could have been her child. If she’d kept her baby, he would have been just a few months older than Fawn’s child.
“Tell the agent I’ll pray for Kelvin’s son.”
Natalie sighed. “Okay, Princess.” They talked a bit longer, about the multibook deal that was on the table at Praise Publishing and the recurring guest appearances Natalie had confirmed with Carla’s show. By the time they finished talking, Princess was exhausted. Not so much from their conversation, but from the part of her mind that stayed on Kelvin and his son.
She almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang. But after seeing Joni’s home number on the caller ID, she quickly picked up the phone.
“Hey, girl.”
“Princess, it’s me. Don’t hang up.”
Against her will, Princess’s heartbeat quickened, the way it always did when she heard Kelvin’s voice.
“And don’t be mad at Brandon. He wouldn’t give me your number, but he dialed you on three-way. I threatened him to within an inch of his life if he didn’t. I need to talk to you, Princess. I need you.”
Princess closed her eyes against the rush of emotions that roiled inside her.
“Princess, did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry about your son, Kelvin. My agent told yours that I’d pray for him, and I will.”
“What about me, Princess? Will you pray for me?”
“Of course.”
“Will you pray
with
me?”
“Sure, we can pray right now.”
“That’s cool, but I want to see you in person. I want you to pray for my son in person. And for me.”
“For you? But Joni said you were doing much better.”
“Oh, so you’ve asked about me, have you?” There was no denying the smile in Kelvin’s voice.
Princess had asked about him but felt that he didn’t need to know it. “It’s not a good idea for me to see you.”
“Why not?” Kelvin asked softly. “Isn’t it the Christian thing to do, to help out a friend in need?”
“It’s not fair to bring up Christianity only when it’s convenient for you, Kelvin.”
“Does it make what I said any less true?”
“What does Fawn think about me praying for her son?”
“She doesn’t have to know. I’m coming to LA in a couple days and bringing Kelvin with me.”
“If you can bring him to LA, he must not be too sick.”
“I wouldn’t lie on my son, baby, not about this. The doctors gave him some medication, so he’s okay for right now. That’s why I want to come this weekend, before he gets sick again. Can I, Princess? Can I come see you?”
“Call me when you get here,” Princess said after a long pause. “I’ll pray for your son. And for you.”
“Hey, Rafael.”
“Hey, superstar!”
“Shut up!”
“You know it’s true.”
“I’m just God’s princess, that’s all.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m trying to get you to be my princess too.”
Princess smiled. Even though he’d said it in a joking manner, she knew Rafael was half serious about them getting back together. And lately, she’d actually tossed around the idea. They had practically grown up together, had many of the same interests, and he was her best friend and he loved God. Princess knew that she could do worse in the boyfriend department…and had. “Why didn’t you call me back last night? I really needed to talk to you.”
“’Cause I was working until almost midnight. There’s no rest for the weary, or the brothahs at the low end of the totem pole.” Rafael complained with a smile in his voice. After graduating in the top ten percent of his class with a degree in political science, he’d secured a job as special assistant to the mayor of Kansas City. Everyone who knew him said that job would be his one day. Rafael agreed. In fact, mayor was only the first rung on his career ladder. He planned to follow in the footsteps of Barack Obama, go all the way to the top, and bring Princess with him as first lady. “You got me now—state your business.”
“I talked to Kelvin.”
There was no smile in his voice or on his face when Rafael answered. “How’d that happen?”
Princess told him.
“That fool will try anything to get next to you, Princess. Don’t fall for the okey-doke.”
“But my agent verified it, Raphael. His son is sick. And Kelvin is still healing too.”
“So? Kelvin’s father is one of the most prestigious ministers in the country. Let him pray for his grandchild and his son. You stay the hell away.”
“He’s bringing him here.”
“To Los Angeles?”
“Uh-huh.”
“This is not good, Princess. I’m telling you. He’s just trying to get back in, and the fact that he would use his son’s illness? That’s messed up right there.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t meet with him.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“Uncle Derrick and Aunt Vivian can supply all the prayer his child needs.”
“Exactly. When’s he supposed to be there?”
“This weekend, I think.”
“I think this weekend is a good time for you to visit the family, come back to Kansas.”
“I can’t get away right now. My PR schedule is crazy. But I’ll be home for the fourth. You’re invited over to our house for barbeque. Mama and Daddy’s in-ground pool will be finished by then. So throw away those raggedy swim trunks you probably still have from high school, and buy some new ones.”
“Don’t worry about me. You just make sure your body is tight enough to rock a bikini.”
“I’m not the one with the beer gut,” Princess teased.
“Beer gut? Girl, you trippin’. You know I don’t drink.”
Rafael and Princess joked, teased, and talked for a while. When she got off the phone, her side was hurting from laughing so much. She glanced at the clock and was shocked to see it was one a.m. She had three book signings tomorrow, the first one at noon. Princess took a quick shower and went to bed, still smiling about the conversation with her dear, crazy friend.
On the other side of the country, Rafael was not smiling. He was worried about Princess. He’d been there to help pick up the pieces of the heart Kelvin shattered. That’s why while Princess felt she could handle an encounter with Kelvin, Rafael wasn’t so sure. But he knew one thing—
he
could handle an encounter with him. Rafael wasn’t going to sit back and let his friend get hurt again. He logged onto his computer and booked a flight to LA.
Mama Max hummed a gospel tune as she pulled into the grocery store parking lot. Her list was short: mainly ingredients for homemade chicken and dumplings and a peach cobbler. This was one of Obadiah’s favorite meals, but that’s not why Mama Max was fixing it. The idea of preparing it came after a conversation with Nettie earlier, when she’d talked about missing her mother. No matter that it had been more than a decade since she’d passed, Nettie still felt her loss, keenly at times. And how she missed her mama’s chicken and dumplings. That’s the comment that sent Mama Max to the store.
Life had been interesting in the Brook household since Mama Max’s return and Obadiah’s heart attack. For one, their schedule had been busy. Gospel Truth had celebrated the reverend doctor’s one-year anniversary the previous week, and at the same time, had announced his retirement effective at the end of the year. While returning to ministry had reinvigorated him, Obadiah realized that he no longer had the stamina to effectively oversee a ministry full-time.
Because of the anniversary, the Brook household had bubbled over with activity. King, Tai, and their children had come down for the occasion, as had Derrick and Vivian Montgomery. While they’d stayed in hotels, most of their free time was spent around Mama Max’s dining room table, enjoying great food and good conversation and acting as if everything was all right.
Everything was fine, but not all right. A side from confirming that the plastic pussy had been removed, along with the rest of his pornographic collection, Mama Max and Obadiah had not discussed their marriage in any depth. The doctors had said not to do anything strenuous, which in Mama Max’s opinion included arguing—something that was bound to happen once their marriage became the topic of discussion. For the first three weeks following his heart attack, Obadiah spent much of his time resting or reading the Word. Visitors and preparations for the anniversary had taken up the rest of the time. This was the first week that the agenda was not full and Obadiah was healthy. Mama Max knew it was time for them to clear the air.
She put her oversized purse in the small compartment of the shopping cart and wheeled it inside. She started in the produce aisle, picking up fresh herbs and vegetables. She proceeded to the canned-goods aisle, swept through the baking-goods section, picked up two whole chickens, paid for her purchases, and was out the door.
That didn’t take long,
she thought, looking at her watch as she rolled her shopping cart to the trunk of her black Thunderbird.
I can get this done in time to invite Nettie over for dinner.
Mama Max placed the items in her car and closed the trunk just in time to see Dorothea Jenkins walking toward her.
Mama Max stood as tall her as her five feet five allowed and glared at the woman approaching. “I don’t have a thing to say to you, Dorothea.”
Dorothea kept approaching. She stopped a couple feet in front of Mama Max. “I have some things to say to you, Maxine. And since you had your number changed, I guess God has arranged for us to meet right here.”
Mama Max had changed the number after hearing the message Dorothea left for Obadiah, just before seeing him sprawled on his office floor. Mama Max mumbled under her breath, pushed Dorothea out of her way, and reached for her car door handle.
“At least I love him!” Dorothea said.
Mama Max whirled around. “You wouldn’t know love if it walked up and slapped you! Lust, maybe. Adultery? For sure. But love don’t sleep with another woman’s husband.”
“Even when she won’t?”
“You got a lot of nerve flapping your jaws about what you
think
is going on in my marriage,” Mama Max hissed as she stuck her finger in Dorothea’s face. “A lowlife tramp with no self-respect at all. And now you’ve got the nerve to be a preacher’s wife. It’s a shame before the living God.”
“No, I’ll tell you what’s a shame. It’s a shame to have a wonderful man like Obadiah Brook in your house and sleep in another bedroom. It’s a shame to think you’re too holy to honor your marriage vows.”
“Honor? I’m surprised you can say the word. You’re just jealous that this nappy-headed Black woman has the man you’ve always wanted! Well, I told you then and I’ll tell you now—Obadiah belongs to me!”
“You think so?” Dorothea responded, her subdued voice in stark contrast to a practically screaming Mama Max. “You may have his body, Maxine Brook. But you will never have his heart.
That
belongs to me!”
“Let me get out of here before I do something ungodly.”
Dorothea blocked her. “No, Maxine. This conversation is forty years overdue.”
“I’m warning you, Dorothea. Get out of my way.”
Dorothea’s smile was predatory. “That’s exactly what I’ve wanted to say to you for forty years. Obadiah never wanted to stay married to you. His thoughts were on his kids and the ministry and what a divorce would cost him. You’ve walked around all these years thinking you did a big thing by threatening us all those years ago. You think it was your ultimatum that kept him with you all these years?”
“Whatever it was, he’s still with me and not you. So you might as well give up.”
“Oh, believe me, Maxine, I’ve given up plenty.”
“You’ve given up nothing, except your self-respect.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Oh, I don’t? Then why don’t you tell me? What have you given up, Dorothea Noble Bates Jenkins, and whatever last names that I don’t know about? What do you have to show that you’ve ever thought of anybody but yourself?”
This time it was Dorothea who turned to walk away, but a fired-up Mama Max fell in step behind her. “Oh, now you’re done talking, huh? Because you have nothing to show for all this talk about Obadiah loving you more than me, do you? What do you have to show for it?”
Dorothea finally spun around. “An empty womb!”
This answer stopped Mama Max in her tracks.
“Yes,” Dorothea continued. “I was pregnant with Obadiah’s child all those years ago, when you came knocking on the door of my hotel room. That’s why he’d risked everything to come with me, even with his wife just floors below. I wanted his child more than anything, Maxine, more than my own life. Obadiah wanted it, too, said he’d find a way to take care of two families.
“But then he sought the counsel of an older pastor who told him that an illegitimate child at that time would effectively ruin his ministry. Obadiah was distraught, torn between his love for God and his love for me.
Me,
Maxine,” Dorothea said, pointing to herself. “When he got back to Kansas, he called to let me know that he’d made his choice. He was going to leave you and the ministry, to be with me and our child.”
Mama Max was unconvinced. “If this story is true—and I don’t believe it for a minute—then where is this child, this baby that Obadiah loved so much?”
“I killed it.” Dorothea’s haughty attitude faltered, and tears filled her eyes. “I thought I was doing what was best for Obadiah. I didn’t want to be the cause of his leaving what he loved so much, and he loved the ministry. I justified it by saying he and I could have another child, the right way, after he divorced you. I went to a woman known for herbal potions that helped…release the fetus from the womb. I drank her poison, and two days later, our son came out. Obadiah was devastated when I told him. That’s when I realized what a mistake I’d made, in not leaving Obadiah a choice in the matter. And even though I tried to get pregnant again,
we
tried to get pregnant again, it was the first and only time I conceived. So whatever you think you’ve given up, Maxine Brook? I’ve given up more.
“I’m not asking for your pity. I just want to give you something to think about, tell you something you didn’t know about the man you take for granted: sleeping in another bed, forcing him to seek inanimate objects to satisfy a need you should be fulfilling. Yes, you may love him, you may have him, but you will never love him more than me. You count that cost, and then you judge me. Because no matter what, as long as there’s breath in my body, I will be a part of Obadiah’s life.”