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Authors: Michele Andrea Bowen

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BOOK: Pastor Needs a Boo
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Tatiana didn't want Denzelle, but she also didn't want the man to find some happiness. She was going to get up in the receiving line when service ended, stand with Denzelle, find that woman, and put her in her place. She had, after all, been the first lady of Denzelle's church at one time—which is more than she could say for Miss Cato Fashions.

Dayeesha was so glad that Naye Naye, who could sew her butt off, had made her that suit in platinum, with a navy fox collar and navy fox trim on the cuffs of the coat's sleeves. She didn't miss Tatiana trying to keep her cool when she saw the suit, wondering how Dayeesha could afford it, and then, how she had found it in a different color. It was clear to Dayeesha that one of this mean woman's claims to fame was her exquisite wardrobe and her ability to dress better than most women she encountered.

She sneaked a peak over at Marsha Metcalf, sitting with her very handsome son, Marcus. Marsha looked fresh and stylish in a lilac silk suit that was so pretty on her toffee-colored skin. The skirt was straight and a few inches above the knee. The jacket was a fly peplum design that accentuated Marsha's hourglass figure.

The only thing giving Tatiana's ensemble showstopping status was the hat. It was a tall hat, almost like the Mad Hatter's headpiece, if he had been a woman trying to show off at church. The hat had stacked layers that started with a black fox brim, then a band of gold rhinestones, another layer of black fox fur, another layer of gold rhinestones, and on for a good four layers. All in all, the hat was at least eighteen inches high from the base of the black fox brim, and it twinkled whenever Tatiana moved her head. It was the kind of hat that should have been trying to jump off the pages of the Donna Vinci Web site.

“Daye Daye,” Metro whispered to his wife, “How much you think she paid for that hat?”

“A grand?”

“Naw,” Metro countered. “I'd bet she dropped a good fifteen hundred.”

Dayeesha pulled her iPhone out and sneaked and snapped a picture of the hat. Then she did a quick search and matched up that picture to a price.

Metro whispered, “Did you find the price?”

“Yes,” Dayeesha answered slowly, making him wait on the answer. “I told you that this new app for the phone was worth the money. See, if I didn't have it, we wouldn't know her hat cost thirty-two hundred dollars.”

“What!” Metro said. “Shoot, I need to get some of those hats for the store.”

“Nahh, Baby. We don't need to push that off on our folk at Yeah Yeah—some of them might take you too seriously and start showing up at the club in one of those bad boys. Can't you just see a sister trying to get her swerve on, with a drink in her hand and that hat on her head, when they started playing some throwback Trinidad James?”

Metro started laughing. He'd seen enough at the club back in the day to know that Daye Daye was on the money with that observation. Sometimes he didn't know who was more trill, folks at church or the folks at the club.

“Buuuttt,” Dayeesha said, “I think we might want to think about putting a few pairs of those Christian Louboutins she is rocking in the exclusive section of the store.”

“How do you know those are some Louboutins?” Metro asked, because the shoes just looked like some regular high-price, slammin' black suede women's pumps.

“Watch her when she sits down. She will swing her feet so the red soles on the shoes will show, so we'll know she is rockin' some Christian Louboutins.”

Metro studied the shoes. They were definitely worthy of going in one of his stores. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the Christian Louboutin Web site.

“Dang, Daye Daye, this brother's stuff is tight! Yeah, we are definitely adding a few pairs of his shoes to the merchandise in our exclusive section. You want me to order you a pair, too?”

“Boy, if you don't order me a pair of those shoes, I'm going to tell folk you are scared of dragonflies.”

Metro opened his mouth and looked at their kids to make sure they weren't listening. He didn't need them running around telling people “Daddy scared of dragonflies, Daddy scared of dragonflies,” in that sing-songy tone kids used to tease folk.

Dayeesha laughed. She said, “You just get me my shoes and your secret will remain safe with me, until I want another pair.”

“I'm gonna pray for you, Dayeesha,” Metro told her, and pulled up a scripture on his phone. He had been bitten by a dragonfly when he was young. He didn't know of anybody else who had this experience. So how could he really explain why he was scared of them?

 

Chapter Five

Dayeesha wasn't the only one in church who saw those nine-hundred-dollar pumps Tatiana was wearing. Marsha Metcalf stared at those shoes for a moment, and then glanced down at her own feet in a sweet pair of black-and-lilac suede platform pumps. Her friend in the shoe department at Sebastian-Fleur had them hidden for her until the shoes were an additional 40 percent off the lowest ticketed price. That was the only way she could afford a pair of shoes like this. And she certainly could not have afforded those shoes that mean Tatiana girl was wearing. Marsha couldn't afford one of those shoes, let alone a pair.

Tatiana Townsend was the most expensively dressed woman in the church this morning. Yet, despite that millionaire's club–priced outfit, the poverty inherent in her character was evident to anyone willing to look past the red soles of her shoes. Watching that woman kept making Marsha think of the scripture in 2 Peter:
A sow that is washed returns to her wallowing in the mud.

No matter how much money Tatiana spent on her clothes, her hair, her shoes, jewelry, car, the works, she was still a decadent sow. The sad thing was that Tatiana seemed quite oblivious to her true state of affairs. She really believed that her rich and prominent husband, her clothes, and her bank account would make folk think she was a woman of substance—a woman to lift up head and shoulders above the other women in her midst.

Service was progressing along rather quickly, too quickly, perhaps. Marsha had been so engrossed in the Townsends that she was almost caught off guard when it was time for the meet and greet part of service.

Tatiana hurried down to the altar and made sure everybody saw her talking to Denzelle. She looked over her shoulder, eyes scanning the sanctuary with laserlike precision, in search of the woman her ex was rumored to have a crush on.

But Tatiana completely overlooked Marsha walking down front to speak to Denzelle. She was so busy looking for a replica of herself in much cheaper clothes that she didn't even notice Marsha, who was someone Tatiana would walk right by, as if she didn't exist. It was as if scales were covering Tatiana's eyes for the length of time Marsha was talking to Denzelle.

Tatiana may have missed the exchange between those two, but Metro Mitchell and Marsha's son, Marcus, didn't miss a thing. Reverend Flowers was grinning and laughing, and the twinkle in his eyes was so sparkling and bright, Metro had to fight the urge to whip out his designer shades.

Marcus Metcalf Bluefield was very protective of his mother. He had seen the pain she went through when his father upped and left her for that woman he met while off with his boys at the CIAA Tournament many years ago. Marcus was sad when his father died. But he was also scared straight when that happened. He had been in high school and was acting out over the divorce. But when Rodney passed away, Marcus got right with the Lord and turned his life completely around.

To this day, Marcus didn't know if his father got saved before he died. It was scary not to know if someone escaped spending eternity in hell. Marcus thought about all of the people who acted like they were hell bent on going to hell. He didn't want to be around people like that for a few minutes. So Marcus knew he couldn't take that kind of companionship for all eternity. He hoped his father had been spared that eternal hardship. He also didn't want his mother troubled by that same concern, and got saved.

If losing his dad was hard, learning that his father canceled the life insurance policy that was to help his mom take care of his son in the event of his death made it all that more difficult. Money suddenly became unbearably tight, and Marcus and his mom lost their home. He counted it nothing but the grace of God that they were safely situated in their town house the day the sheriff came to the old house with paperwork to throw them out.

Even worse, his father left his stepmom a million-dollar policy. His dad was so busy making sure the stepmom would continue to live well, he forgot about his own son's pending college tuition needs. But that was alright. Marsha always told her son that when it looked like there was no way out to always keep an eye open for the inevitable “ram in the bush.” She always told him to trust God because He always made “a way out of no-way.” And to Marcus's delight, that is exactly what God did for him.

The lady everyone said was Rev's ex-wife reminded Marcus of his stepmother. They were mean, privileged, and very spoiled women. Sometimes Marcus wondered why God let people act like that—and that included his father, Rodney. It seemed to him that people like that could do and say all kinds of bad things and get away with it. Like this morning. That woman shouldn't have been able to stroll up in this church and bother his pastor like that.

But then, Marcus reasoned silently, if the pastor reached out to a good woman like his mother, maybe he wouldn't have stupid stuff like this jumping off on a Sunday morning. It was like Reverend Flowers believed that if he swore off having a woman in his life, his troubles with women would dissolve, like salt in warm water. As far as Marcus was concerned, Reverend Flowers acted like he got upset with himself because he couldn't help wanting a woman in his life.

“That is so stupid,” Marcus mumbled to himself, so deep in thought he hadn't noticed that his mother had just sat back down next to him.

“You say something, Baby?” Marsha asked her son, wondering what caused those furrows in his brow. She reached up and ran her fingers gently across his forehead.

“Mom!” Marcus said, more upset with himself for needing the comfort of her touch like that. He sighed. Maybe he was being too hard on Reverend Flowers. He understood. Mom was so sweet and kind, she could make a brother really soften under her touch.

“Poor Pastor,” he mumbled.

“Poor Pastor what?” Marsha asked, curious as to why her son was speaking as if he were in some way empathetic toward Denzelle.

“Oh, I just feel bad that the pastor has to deal with someone like that lady,” Marcus said, knowing his mother wasn't buying that. He couldn't blurt out things around his mother. She heard everything, and could discern stuff you weren't ready for her to know about.

“Soooo,” Marcus said casually, hoping to get his mom off of his trail, “how is Reverend Flowers doing this morning?”

“Fine, I guess,” Marsha answered her son, and then looked up at him. “Marcus, why are you so concerned about Den—”

She stopped and caught herself when she saw her son's right eyebrow go up.

“Doesn't the pastor look okay to you?” Marsha said, in the most nonchalant tone she could muster up. The last person on earth she wanted to peep out her crush on Denzelle Flowers was Mr. Marcus Metcalf Bluefield.

“Umm … hmm. Well, actually, Mom, he looks better now,” Marcus answered with a soft laugh, thinking that his mother was hilarious. So Mom has a serious crushy-crush on old boy.
Interesting
.

Marsha started reading her bulletin like it was the Bible. The worse thing in the world for a mom was a nosey child who was determined to start poking around in a mom's business. She was going to have to be extra careful when Marcus was around when she talked to Denzelle. Because Marsha knew that Mr. Man was going to be watching her like he was the daddy and she was the child.

When the visitors were asked to stand up, Tatiana hopped up and talked right over the man who had stood up first and was in the process of trying to introduce himself and his wife and family.

She said, “Good morning, Christian friends,” in the fakest and most overly proper church voice.

“If she adds ‘Rs' or a few ‘eerrerrrs' to the ends of her words, I'm walking out of church,” Dayeesha whispered to Metro.

“I am Tatiana Hill Flowers Townsend. My husband, Dr. Todd Townsend, and I are relocating here so that he can take a top position as head of the trauma center at Duke Medical Center. We are looking for a home and a church home. I knew that New Jerusalem would be a wonderful place to start, because my darling ex-husband is the pastor. As the former first lady of this church, I will be standing in the back in the receiving line to greet each and every one of you after service.”

I wasn't aware that old girl has ever sat foot in this church. And now she's the former first lady? Dayeesha texted her husband, Metro.

And the Golden Globe Award for best performance by an actress playing a lunatic feigning sanity goes to that lying heifer up there, Metro texted back to his wife.

Poor Denzelle was flabbergasted over that maneuver. First, he didn't think Tatiana would ever want to come to a church he pastored again. At least, that is what she instructed her attorney to tell him during the back-and-forth nightmare known as their divorce. And even though he believed Tatiana was capable of many things, this was weird and suspect even for her.

But if Denzelle was flabbergasted, Todd was floored. He turned red, and then all of the color drained from his face, making him look even more like the, “Is he a brother?” black man that he was. Todd tugged at Tatiana's hand, as encouragement for her to slow her roll. But that only seemed to egg her on. Because when the doors of the church were opened, Tatiana walked right down to the altar where Denzelle was standing, and Todd, who personally really had no use for church, had no choice but to hurry down there to stand with his wife.

BOOK: Pastor Needs a Boo
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