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Authors: Michele Andrea Bowen

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BOOK: Pastor Needs a Boo
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“Sharlena. My name is Sharlena Maxwell, Pastor.”

Denzelle gave her the smile that got him in so much trouble while an undergrad. He knew he was looking at nothing but one hundred and twenty-five pounds of pure trouble, with a name like Sharlena and matching from head to toe in an electric blue silk suit, electric blue silk hat, electric blue pumps and matching purse. Denzelle figured with all of that blue, baby had to be wearing a bright blue bra and bikini panties. There was nothing better than getting an eyewitness full of a big brown rump stretching the strings on some itsy-bitsy blue panties.

He said in his best preacher voice, “It is a pleasure to meet you on this great and blessed Sunday that the Lord has given us.”

Sharlena sucked on her tooth and looked the pastor right in the eye. She grinned, pleased that her grin made him squirm. Sharlena had maneuvered quite a few secret rendezvous with preachers and knew when she had managed to get under a minister's skin. A brother out there in the world would have been licking his chops and working hard on a good comeback line. But a preacher? And a pastor at that? That brother would retreat into preacher minutia and try and play it off that she was getting next to him.

She thought, “This is going to be fun, 'cause this preacher is good. He smooth, too.” And then, Sharlena said, “The pleasure is all mine, and hopefully will be yours,” in the sexiest voice she dared use in the receiving line at church.

Later that afternoon, while eating at K & W Cafeteria with her best friend, Sharlena said, “Girl, it is just a matter of time before I find out what those blue pants are covering up.”

Her friend dipped her fork into a delectable piece of chocolate cream pie and said, “I heard that.”

Denzelle was a great preacher. He was also a very personable pastor who had a genuine appreciation of all of his parishioners—young and old. As much as those ladies were busy discussing everything about their pastor they didn't have any business discussing about the pastor, the other members of the church were busy discussing how much life and pizzazz and fire he brought to their church.

Practically all of Tabernacle Gospel United Church was impressed with Denzelle being both a pastor and former field agent with the FBI. They, and especially some of the women, didn't know what to do with a man who could handle the Bible and a gun with such proficiency.

When Sharlena said, “Girl, Reverend Flowers makes me want to commit a crime, just so he can arrest me,” her friend said, “Oooo, chile, don't you just wonder what it sound like for your pastor to say, ‘Hands behind your back—you are under arrest.'”

Before Sharlena could say one more thing on this titillating subject, one of the sincere, God-fearing church mothers walked up to their table. “How did that old Holy Roller roll up on us in this restaurant?” Sharlena's friend asked in a loud whisper.

Miss Deborah, the “old Holy Roller,” rolled her eyes. The words dumb and stupid couldn't even begin to describe those two women. She said, “You two sit up in church every Sunday, and you still talk and act like alley cats working to claw your way straight to hell.”

Those two were quiet during the reprimand, because they knew Miss Deborah was right, even if they wished she would take her “I love Jesus for real” self back to her own table so that they could continue with the business at hand.

“We didn't have anything to do with the bishop's decision to send a man as fine as Reverend Flowers to our church, Miss Deborah,” was all Sharlena said.

“Sharlena Maxwell,” Miss Deborah began, face clearly displaying that she was not buying that raggedy mess from her. “You get all beside yourself whenever we have a new pastor. And he don't have to be fine for you to do so. If you remember, our last pastor could really preach, but he was butt ugly.”

Sharlena sighed and resisted a strong urge to cut her eyes at Miss Deborah. She was truly a righteous woman—even in Sharlena's book. Folk at church didn't mess with Miss Deborah, because she would get to calling on Jesus, and then mess your butt up. Miss Deborah could pray, Miss Deborah could sing, Miss Deborah could preach, and Miss Deborah could fight.

Plus, she had seven children who all spoke in tongues and liked to fight. And her husband, Mr. Lester, wasn't any better. He was always standing off on the sidelines with a big bottle of anointing oil, just waiting to assist the love of his life with any kind of altercation she might encounter as a soldier for the Lord.

And as much as Sharlena hated to admit it, Miss Deborah only checked folks who had really gone too far and were working up on some trouble that could affect the church. A member like Sharlena having a secret tête-à-tête with the new pastor would definitely cause problems in the church.

Shoot, Sharlena thought as she watched Miss Deborah retreat with relief. Ain't my fault that man stepped up in our church looking all good and sexy and tasty, and without a woman in his life. I don't know why these men think its okay to be all frolicking in the church, all alone, and think folk are just going to stand by and watch all of that. If he had somebody right, he wouldn't have even noticed my butt, and he sho' wouldn't be interested in anything I have to offer.

Miss Deborah sighed, as she went back to Lester and the children. The bishop couldn't have appointed a better pastor than Reverend Flowers. That man was full of fire. But she knew, in her heart of hearts, Pastor didn't have the sense God gave him to hook up with a good woman—the kind of woman who understood what it took to be the helpmeet to a handsome and up-and-coming pastor in their church.

Pastor was going to need her prayers. He'd been at Tabernacle all of one month, and it was clearer than clear that women loved themselves some Denzelle Flowers. Good news—the pastor was a good man. He was a great pastor, a powerful preacher, and a dedicated community servant. Bad news—he definitely had a weakness for a big round butt, stuffed into a delectable-looking church suit.

When Denzelle graduated from his third, so-called secret rendezvous in the church the bishop stepped in and let Reverend Flowers know that a marriage was a prerequisite if he planned to keep moving up in the ranks of the ministry. Upon hearing the M word, Denzelle determined that his troubles with lust would end if he identified a woman to marry—as if marriage could be boiled down to something as calculated as putting an FBI pinpoint on a potentially suitable mate.

Against the advice of his best friend, Denzelle decided it would be a swell idea to marry one of his newest members, Tatiana Hill. Tatiana, a registered nurse, was tall, shapely, with dark micro braids, dark eyes, and an aura of mystique about her that made a brother like Denzelle curious to know what was behind that cool and controlled exterior. She had an air about her that could be misinterpreted as aloof or regal. But there were folks at the church who read her demeanor for exactly what it was—Tatiana was mean, stuck up, and thought she was too cute to be nice to people.

Once the two started dating openly, Tatiana would make it her business to stand next to the pastor while he greeted the members at the close of service. But the members wished she'd take herself to the bathroom or something, so they didn't have to pretend they wanted to be bothered with her. Tatiana barely opened her mouth when folk spoke to her. When one lady just decided that she was going to make that girl talk to her, Tatiana stood there in that high-priced, lime-green silk first lady suit and looked down at the woman like she was a piece of poop smashed up on the sidewalk.

Miss Deborah shook her head whenever she saw Denzelle and Tatiana together. She told Lester, “You know no good will come out of this. Nothing either one of them is doing has anything to do with the Lord. It has everything to do with gaining the whole world at the risk of your own soul.”

Tatiana Hill believed she was supposed to have the pastor simply because she was Tatiana. As far she was concerned, Denzelle was supposed to chase after her, even though the only thing she really loved about this man was his status, his growing bank account, and the fact that she had something all of those other women wanted—him. It made Tatiana glow and purr when she felt the envy from women who would almost die to be on the pastor's arm. Sometimes she didn't even feel like being on Denzelle's arm until she spied another woman gazing wistfully in their direction.

While Denzelle's heart was as far from loving Tatiana as sunlight was from moonlight, he believed he was doing the correct thing by marrying this beautiful, cold, and conniving woman. But that boy knew he'd made a terrible mistake the moment the two of them stepped on the plane en route to a romantic honeymoon in Tahiti and fought like cats and dogs during the entire flight. By the time the limousine driver had finished putting their bags in the car, Denzelle was looking at a makeshift vegetable stand with longing, wishing he could hunker down there for the duration of the trip.

In that moment he truly understood what the old preachers had tried to explain to him when they kept talking about the Word jumping off the page and literally coming to life. Every time Tatiana opened her mouth to speak all Denzelle could think of was Proverbs 25:24:
Better to live on a corner of a roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.

And it didn't take long for another scripture to practically slap him across the face. Never in a million years did a bona fide player like Denzelle Flowers believe he would be the poster boy for these Words from Proverbs 30:20:
This is the way of an adulteress: She eats and wipes her mouth and says, “I've done nothing wrong.”

That marriage lasted just long enough for them to become unqualified for an annulment. One year, two months, five days, eleven hours, thirteen minutes, and nine seconds made it legally impossible for the good Reverend Flowers to wipe his slate clean of the woman he'd sworn to love, honor, and protect 'til death did they part. In fact, those vows scared him a bit, because sometimes Tatiana made Denzelle feel as if she'd rather have their parting be a result of him crossing over into eternity.

Tatiana left Denzelle on an afternoon while he was officiating over the funeral and burial of one of Tabernacle's long-standing members. When Denzelle got home, everything connected to Tatiana was gone except the note taped to the refrigerator with her lawyer's name and number on it, along with an amount for the check Tatiana expected Denzelle to deposit into her account to cover her moving expenses.

He had always known that girl had some nerve. He just didn't know the extent of that nerve until now. He laughed, and then tore up the note and threw it in the trash.

Denzelle was relieved when the presiding bishop reassigned him, to a smaller church, after that breakup. He needed a break from the fast track, and received the assignment to the 117-member church out in Mount Airy, North Carolina, with a glad heart.

Obadiah cracked up when Denzelle told him where he had to go for a year. He said, “D, I cannot believe the bishop has sent you Mayberry.”

“Mayberry?”

“Yeah, D. You know that Mount Airy is the town used as the model for Mayberry on the
Andy Griffith Show
. Remember?”

Obie was right. Mount Airy was the real Mayberry, and he was a real officer of the law. That was some funny stuff. Denzelle hadn't really laughed or found anything funny in months. Maybe going off to Mayberry for a season was exactly what he needed.

Denzelle's time in Mount Airy wasn't too long, or too short. It was the perfect amount of a hiatus to prepare him for the next appointment at the up-and-coming New Jerusalem Gospel United Church in Raleigh. New Jerusalem was a strong church, with a growing congregation, and it was in need of a pastor who could take what their former pastor, Reverend Boudreaux, had started up to and well beyond the next level. Everybody in the First Episcopal District knew that Reverend Denzelle Flowers was the man of the hour for this job.

Denzelle remembered his first Sunday at New Jerusalem. He'd learned some valuable lessons at Tabernacle and made a point to wear the most conservative suit he owned for his first day of work. He also remembered marching in with the choir feeling a distinctive turning of the wheels in his heart with excitement over this brand-new venture.

It had been a long time since Denzelle Flowers felt that kind of fire and sparkle on the inside. There were a few times when his heart was so numb, Denzelle worried that something essential had shriveled up and died on the inside. But that morning he knew the Lord had an extra-special blessing for him at New Jerusalem—something quite out of the ordinary. It would be years, along with a few knocks upside Denzelle's hard head, before he would be able to receive the complete blessing God had prepared for him.

The big, bad Denzelle Flowers could barely bring himself to imagine that this blessing was a short, no-cool-points-earning girl named Marsha Metcalf. And the funny thing was, like many men, Denzelle would be in shock that he met this blessing in church. What an irony—a bona fide church man being in denial that the Lord would bless him with the right woman right up in church. Who knew?

 

Chapter Four

That's how the Reverend Denzelle Flowers came to New Jerusalem, which, despite the rumors and his checkered past, welcomed him with open arms. They had really loved Reverend Boudreaux, and cried up rivers of tears when he left. But as much as they loved their former pastor, the congregation was excited to have the infamous Denzelle Flowers as their new shepherd.

This new pastor was exciting. This new pastor had serious swagger. And this new pastor was what an older church mother dubbed as sexy as all get-outs. She told one of her fellow octogenarian missionary sisters, “Honey, if I was still in my sixties, Pastor would be in
trou-bul
.”

All her friend could do was laugh and say, “He need to quit wearing all of them robes all the time during service and put on some of those good-looking three-button suits with some flaps on the back of the jacket. Have you seen
that
butt on
that
man?”

BOOK: Pastor Needs a Boo
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