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Authors: Nikita Lynnette Nichols

Lady Elect (21 page)

BOOK: Lady Elect
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“Girl, no,” Arykah chuckled. “Practice makes perfect. You wanna know what I do to practice? I clean house in my stilettos.”
Gladys's mouth dropped open for the third time that evening. Arykah was blowing her mind. “You do
what?
”
“I vacuum, I wash clothes, I mop the kitchen floor, and I dust in my stilettos. And there is nothing sexier than walking up steps in stilettos. That's what Bishop Lance told me.”
Darlita sighed. “My, my, my. The things you learn when you come to the first lady's house.”
Monique and Chelsea appeared at the closet door. “What's going on in here?” Monique asked.
Arykah glanced at them both. She was so busy entertaining Darlita and Gladys she had forgotten that Chelsea went to apologize to Monique. “Are y'all okay?” Arykah asked them both.
Chelsea looked at Monique and smiled. Then she looked at Arykah. “Yep, we're cool.”
Arykah checked Monique's face for confirmation. When Monique smiled, Arykah spoke. “Okay, well, let us all go and enjoy the treats the bishop prepared for us.”
Arykah knew her best friend well. Monique's smile was forced, but, at that moment, Arykah couldn't question her about the conversation between her and Chelsea. Arykah would have to wait until the evening ended.
“Lady Arykah, this is absolutely stunning,” Chelsea said when she entered the kitchen.
The cherry wood cabinets complimented the gray-colored granite countertops extremely well. Floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room could be seen from the kitchen. Top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances and dark wood flooring was a sight to see for the ladies.
“I could've sworn that I've seen this kitchen in the
Home & Garden
magazine,” Gladys stated. “Did you decorate this kitchen yourself, Lady Arykah?”
“No, I can't take the credit. This home was completely done when I sold it to Bishop Lance.”
Gladys, Chelsea, and Darlita gasped.
Clearly Arykah's statement was news to them. “Y'all didn't know that?” Arykah asked.
“No, we didn't,” Chelsea said. “At least I didn't know it.”
“Neither did I,” Gladys confirmed.
“Same here,” Darlita chimed in.
“That's how we met. All of you do know that I'm in real estate, right?” The three ladies nodded their heads. “Yes, we know that, but we didn't know that you were the agent that sold the bishop his home. He had announced to the church that he was searching for a larger home than the one he was living in,” Darlita stated.
“I was at church that Sunday when he made the announcement,” Chelsea said.
“Bishop Lance also said that he felt that the Lord was getting ready to bless him with his Eve,” Gladys added. “And he said that he had to get ready for her.”
Arykah knew exactly what Gladys was talking about when she said that Lance had announced that he had to get ready for his Eve. Arykah remembered that night when she had driven, in the pouring rain, to Lance's home after Monique told her that she was going to marry Boris. Arykah got so upset at Monique that she stormed out of Monique's house and sped to Lance's new home, the same home she now resides in.
She was soaking wet when she arrived, and Arykah recalled Lance taking her to his master bedroom and showing her a closet full of ladies' clothes and shoes. Lance led Arykah to the master bath where she saw every toiletry that a woman could desire. Arykah asked Lance why he had clothes and toiletries for a woman when he wasn't married. It was then that Lance stated that he was preparing to receive his wife. Days later, Arykah learned that Lance had been preparing to receive her.
Arykah had a change of heart and decided to support Monique's marriage to Boris. But that marriage never happened.
Darlita nodded her head. “Uh-huh. And when he said that he felt that the Lord was getting ready to bless him with his Eve, all the single ladies at church sat straight up on the pews. Everyone knows that Bishop Lance is as fine as aged wine, and he had women coming at him from all directions.”
Chelsea chuckled. “Oh my goodness, Lady Arykah. There was this one chick who wanted to sink her claws into Bishop Lance so bad that every Sunday, when it was offering time, she would take her tithes, always cash, and walk right past the basket the deacons held next to the altar. Instead of placing her money in the basket, she walked into the pulpit and put her money in the bishop's hands.”
“Are you serious?” Monique asked.
“Yeah, that really happened,” Gladys laughed. “And after about four or five Sundays of her doing this, the bishop told the finance committee to just pass the offering baskets up and down the pews.”
“Wow, the lengths that women go to just to land themselves a preacher,” Arykah stated. “It's so sad.”
“No, what was really sad was how no one acknowledged you, Lady Arykah, when Bishop Lance came to church one Sunday morning and announced that he had gotten married in Jamaica the week before. You were sitting on the front pew, but no one knew who you were. And right after praise and worship, Bishop Lance stood and walked to the microphone in the pulpit. He opened up by saying how God allowed us second chances in life.”
Listening to Gladys speak of her very first day at Freedom Temple as lady elect brought back the scene to Arykah's mind.
When she and Lance woke up that Sunday morning and were getting ready for church, Arykah was so nervous. She knew that Lance was going to announce to his congregation that he was no longer a single man.
“And what he meant by second chances,” Chelsea started, “was that he had lost Gwen, the love of his life, in a terrible car accident. Bishop Lance told us how he had given up on finding a woman whom he could cherish forever because he thought that Gwen was God's chosen one for him. And after being single for years, he really didn't think that finding true love, getting married, and having a family would happen for him.”
“And that's when he asked me to stand,” Arykah said.
“Yep, and when you stood up, everybody was whispering, ‘Who is she?'” Darlita remembered.
Thinking back on that day made Arykah nervous all over again. “My feet were shaking, and my hands were shaking. Everything was shaking. I didn't even want to turn around and look into the members' faces because I knew what was coming out of the bishop's mouth next.”
“Then he said it,” Gladys said. “As soon as you stood up, Bishop Lance said,” she paused. The kitchen was quiet for about five seconds. “He said,” Gladys started, then paused again and looked at everyone in the kitchen.
“This is my wife, Lady Arykah Miles,”
Arykah, Darlita, and Chelsea sang together.
Monique wasn't present at Freedom Temple that Sunday morning when Lance introduced Arykah as his wife. She and Adonis had decided to stay in Jamaica and enjoy their honeymoon another week after the wedding. They flew back to Chicago the Monday after Lance's announcement. “Wow, I could just imagine everyone's faces.”
“I held my breath,” Arykah said to Monique. “I thought I was gonna pass out.”
Darlita laughed. “I think the mothers
did
faint.”
Arykah rolled her eyes. “And they've been giving me grief ever since that day, but I don't wanna talk about the mothers right now. This is a stress-free evening.”
“I know that's right,” Chelsea said while at the same time admiring the stove. “Um, Lady Arykah, I know Bishop Lance is a skilled chef, but how many burners does he really need?”
All of the ladies chuckled.
“Seriously though,” Chelsea chuckled with everyone else. “Does he ever have all six burners going at the same time?”
“Actually, he does have them all going at once,” Monique answered. “I've witnessed Bishop Lance have collard greens simmering in one pot and sweet potatoes boiling in another pot. At the same time, he was frying chicken in a skillet and frying sweet corn in another skillet. On one of the rear burners, he had a wok going with vegetable stir-fry, and he used the other rear burner to steam rice.”
Listening to Monique caused Darlita's stomach to growl. “My Lord, my Lord. I have heard that Bishop Lance was no joke when he was in the kitchen.”
“Well, look what he made for us,” Arykah said, directing the ladies' attention to the goodies on the center island.
Stuffed artichokes, twice-baked potatoes, chicken marsala, string bean casserole, Swedish meatballs, and Lance's secret recipe for sweet potato cream cheese pie was what he provided for the ladies.
“Oh, wow, look at this feast,” Gladys said.
Darlita was famished. She eyeballed the stuffed artichokes. “I feel like royalty.”
They oohed and aahed over the feminine treats. The stiletto shaped cookies were a huge hit.
“Sister Ethel Avery made the cookies and the cakes on sticks,” Arykah revealed.
Monique knew Ethel. She had bought a few cakes from her. “No, really?”
“Can you believe it? Aren't they cute and dainty?” Arykah asked the ladies about the decorative cookies.
“Yes, they are,” Darlita answered.
“Bishop Lance made his special chocolate sauce, and I want you all to try something.”
Arykah went to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out two trays of chocolate-covered apples. She set the trays on the center island, next to the food, and told the ladies to try them.
“Simply delicious,” Chelsea moaned when she bit into a chocolate covered apple.
Darlita enjoyed the sour taste of the apple blended with the sweet chocolate. “Lady Arykah, how do you do it? How do you stay away from the bishop's cooking? If I were you, I'd be as big as a house.”
“I
am
as big as a house, Darlita, because I
don't
stay away from his cooking.”
“No, you're not,” Gladys said. “You're not big. Wait 'til we get to church tomorrow and I'll show you big.”
Chelsea laughed. “You're talking about Barbara Brewer, Gladys?”
“Now
she's
a big broad,” Darlita said. “Her nickname is ‘Heavy.'”
Monique frowned. She weighed 265 lbs. and wore a size twenty-two W. She was extremely heavy, and Monique would be heartbroken if anyone called her that as a nickname. “That's cruel.”
“Barbara gave herself that nickname,” Chelsea replied.
Monique didn't understand. “What woman would do that?”
“A woman with low self-esteem who is embarrassed by her size and is quick to make fun of herself before someone else does it,” Arykah answered. “It's called ‘beating them to the punch.' It softens the blow. Been there, done that.”
The ladies prepared their plates and drinks before heading into the formal dining room. Arykah had place cards in the shape of stilettos created with each of the ladies' names on them.
“These are cute,” Gladys mumbled to herself when she had seen her name on a place card before she set her plate of food on the table. She screamed shortly afterward when she pulled her chair from beneath the table and saw a Christian Louboutin shoe box on the seat.
“Oh my God!”
Monique, Chelsea, and Darlita came into the dining room from the kitchen with their plates of food to see what Gladys was carrying on about.
“Look in your chairs,” Gladys told them excitedly.
Arykah came into the dining room with her camera to capture the moment when everyone saw their gifts in their chairs.
Darlita screamed out next when she saw the shoe box in her chair. Arykah was able to get a snapshot with Darlita's tonsils showing. Chelsea let out a shriek when she saw her shoe box in her chair. Arykah snapped Chelsea's face when her eyeballs popped out of her head.
“You did it anyway,” Monique said to Arykah. She had tried to talk Arykah out of buying such expensive shoes for the ladies, but when Monique saw a Christian Louboutin shoe box in her chair as well, she was fine with it. Arykah snapped Monique's face when she opened her box and saw the stilettos inside.
Gladys pulled out her shoes and admired them. “Oh my goodness.”
“Look at me, Gladys,” Arykah said. When Gladys looked at her, she was still in shock and couldn't close her mouth. Arykah snapped her photo.
“These are gonna be good,” Arykah said about the photos. “I got some good ones.”
The ladies couldn't stop gawking at their shoes. “Lady Arykah, you are something else,” Darlita said already replacing her shoes with her new ones.
Arykah looked around the dining room and saw that the ladies had completely forgotten about the food. They were all putting on their stilettos.
BOOK: Lady Elect
4.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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