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Authors: DiShan Washington

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BOOK: Preacher's Wifey
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“I will.”
I closed the door behind him and got straight to business. I was starving for some reason and was planning on savoring every bite.
The sound of my phone interrupted my delight, and I went and grabbed it. It was my mother calling again. She never called this many times unless something was wrong, so I picked up.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Allyson Kristina Ward, where are you?” she asked, clearly angry.
“That is not important. Is everything okay? Why have you called me so many times?”
“For your information, your husband is worried sick to death about you!” she exclaimed.
“Well, has he keeled over yet?”
“Allyson Kristina Ward!” she exclaimed again. “What on earth has gotten into you? You are speaking as if you have no sense at all.”
“Mother, is
this
what you wanted? To tell me that Byran is worried about me? Because if so, I am enjoying a very nice breakfast and I really want to continue doing so.”
I bit off a piece of the bacon.
“I am appalled right now. You act as if it is okay for you to disappear and not tell anyone where you are.”
“Did Byran tell you where he is?”
“Well, no. He just said he didn't know where you were.”
“He is at the hospital with the love of his life and their new son. Oh, and that would be in Chattanooga, Tennessee.”
The silence was deafening, but I waited for her response. I drank some of my juice and then shoved a spoonful of grits into my mouth.
“I, um, had no idea,” she said quietly. “He called me over and over, asking if I had heard from you, and I told him no. He never once told me what was going on. If I had known, I would have told him that you were going to react like this. You always run when things get to be too much for you.”
“I texted him and told him I was fine. And I
am
fine. As a matter of fact, I am better than fine.”
“Where are you?”
“Again, that is not important. I am where I want to be right now, and will probably be here for the rest of the day. So, Mother, if he calls back, will you please tell him to stop calling me? I have absolutely nothing to say to him.”
“Yes, dear. I am sorry I called so upset. I, too, was sick with worry when I could not reach you. I thought something had happened.”
I knew she meant no harm, but it was just the wrong day . . . the wrong time.
“No problem, Mom.”
“Will you be going home today? Because you know Byran sent someone over to your house after you refused to take his calls, and he knows you are not there. He also knows you did not stay there, Allyson. And if you are with some man, just be careful, honey. The last thing you want to do is get caught and screw up your financial future because you are hurt and upset right now.”
Any understanding I had before flew out of a closed window. She had some nerve. How could she overlook the pain I was feeling and be more concerned about me screwing up my contract?
“Mom, I have to go. Because we both know this is not about me as much as it is about you. Not once did you express your concern about how devastated I must be right now. You are concerned only with your own financial future, because without me, you would not have one. Well, you need to be scared, Mother, because right now I don't know what I might do. I am sick of always being the one sacrificing for everyone else.”
“Do not be a fool, Allyson. If you mess this up, what will you have? You are not accustomed to a mediocre lifestyle. You would be forced to get a job and work by the hour. Can you handle that? Can you handle not having your weekly shopping sprees and spa appointments? What about not having that expensive weave you wear or the purses you carry? So while you are trying to put it all on me, you and I both know that at the end of the day the only reason you are in the situation you are in is because you have a love for material things . . . just like your mother. So my advice to you is to go home and make things right with Byran. And if you are with some man, I hope you have sense enough not to get caught and ruin the reputation of your husband and his church. That would kill him.”
“What about what's killing me?” I screamed. She was relentless. “Never mind. You don't have a clue, Mother. Ever since Daddy walked off and left you for that other woman, you have been the coldest individual I know. You raised me to be selfish, just like you. And I did not realize until now that the only person who has suffered is me. I have cheated my own self out of happiness. You are right. I'm lying in a bed I made for myself, but I will not stay in it. Somehow, someway, I am going to figure out how to get myself out of this mess.”
I heard the key activating the door.
“Mother, I have to go. Don't call me. I will call you. Good-bye,” I said, hanging up the phone, not allowing her the opportunity to say another word.
Seth walked in with shopping bags. He left me to go shopping?
“Everything all right? You look frazzled,” he said as he kissed me on my cheek.
“Just a little fight with my mom, but all is well.” I pointed to the bags. “So you leave me here to enjoy all of this wonderful breakfast while you steal away to shop?” I asked playfully.
“I would have taken you with me, but seeing that you did not even want to be seen walking with me yesterday afternoon, when I offered to walk you to the spa, I knew better than to think you would walk around with me in Phipps Plaza.”
“Phipps Plaza?” I asked, smiling. I liked him all the more.
“Yes. You do not strike me as a Marshalls or T.J.Maxx kind of girl. Am I wrong?”
“Not at all. You are absolutely, one hundred percent correct,” I said, cheesing.
“I know. So, since you are not leaving to go home until tomorrow morning, I figured you would need a few essentials. Undergarments, a new dress, shoes. Well, you didn't need shoes, but I saw the perfect shoes for the dress I purchased, in Jimmy Choo. Just had to get them.”
“But how did you know what sizes to get?”
“You are the exact same size as my ex-fiancée.” He stood with his head cocked to the side, as if he was sizing me up. “You are a size ten in a dress, size eight in shoes, a thirty-six B cup, and a size five in panties. Am I wrong?”
What in the heck?
“Um, no, you are right again,” I said, practically speechless.
“I know.” He motioned to the food. “Are you done? Did you get enough?”
I looked at the pancakes, which I had barely touched. I really wanted those above anything else, but the conversation with my mom had somewhat killed my appetite. Besides that, they were cold now, and there was nothing worse to me than cold pancakes or pancakes warmed up in the microwave.
“Yes, I am done.”
“Okay, go and get dressed. I want to take you for a ride. And before you protest, there is no need to worry. The windows on my car are tinted. No one will ever know you are in there.”
I laughed. Already he knew me too well.
“Okay, but believe it or not, I am still sleepy. Can I take a nap first? Afterward, I will go wherever you want to go.”
“Okay, fair enough. I could use a little more sleep myself. In a bed this time. I enjoyed holding you in the chair, but I don't have the body I used to have. These old bones need proper rest, in a proper resting place.”
“Understood,” I said, holding in laughter.
I walked back into the bedroom but decided to brush my teeth again before escaping to la-la land. I had been so grateful earlier to find a complimentary toothbrush in the basket with the other items. No matter how cute you are, there is no need to walk around with breath that smells like a seal's behind.
The TV was still on in the bathroom, but I was not fond of
Iron Chef.
So I turned the channel to CNN instead.
“We now take you back to breaking news out of Augusta, Georgia. One of the town's most popular abortion clinics has been bombed by a group of protestors. It is presumed that everyone who was inside is now dead. A woman, who has not been identified and who was seen walking into the building when the bomb inside went off, lies in critical condition at the Trinity Hospital of Augusta. We will bring you more information as it comes in,” the news correspondent said right before they went to a commercial.
“Seth!” I screamed.
He rushed into the bathroom where I was.
“Allyson, what's wrong?” he asked nervously. “Are you sick? Did you fall?”
“Your clinic,” I said, pointing to the TV. “It's been bombed.”
Chapter Thirteen
We rode in complete silence the entire way to Augusta. Seth had insisted I stay in Atlanta, claiming it would be too dangerous to expose me to a group of protestors who might try to attack him once he arrived on the scene. But there was no way I was going to let him go and face one the worst days of his life alone. Outside of losing a business, he had lost his entire staff to such a senseless act and would need someone there to support him. I prayed silently that God would be with us and would help us navigate through whatever we were about to walk into.
As we approached, we discovered that the road that led to the clinic was blocked by a hoard of police cars, ambulances, fire trucks, and both local and national news trucks. That was one thing I had not considered when I made the impulsive decision to come along. There was no way I was going to be able to escape a roaming camera or an overzealous reporter looking to talk to anyone connected with the doctor who owned the building that had been bombed.
Seth must have been reading my mind.
“I am going to drive around the block. I had no idea there would be this many reporters here. You don't need another problem, and I don't want to be worried about having to kill one of these idiotic protesters if something happened to you. So I'm going to get out a couple of streets over and walk to the clinic. I want you to go to this address.” He took out a notepad from underneath his armrest and scribbled an address on it.
“Are you sure you are going to be okay? I really don't want to leave you here alone. I mean, what if something happens to you? What am I supposed to do then?” I asked, tears forming in my eyes. “What if one of those stupid people tries to do something to you?”
His response was a kiss on my forehead. Then he said, “I am going to be fine. This is not up for debate or discussion.”
“But if I have your car, how will you get there?”
“You are worried about the wrong thing. I will get there. Now, when you get to that address, tell them you are there to pick up Louella Todd. She's my grandmother. I want the both of you to go to this bottom address. When I get home, I want the two most important people to me right now to be there waiting for me. This is going to be a tough day for me.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed him, as if I was never going to see him again. He kissed me quickly on the lips.
“I gotta go, babe. I will see you soon.”
He opened the car door and got out. I sat and watched him walk away before I, too, got out and went to the driver's side. I got back in the car and closed the door. I looked around the console to try to familiarize myself with his car—a customized 2013 Jaguar XKR-S.
I put the first address in the GPS and took off. Just as I drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a few reporters running toward the car. Thankfully, I drove away at the perfect time. I leaned my head back against the headrest. What had started out as a peaceful morning had turned into a nightmare on Main Street.
The directions led me to the Peace Like a River Senior Housing Facility. It was a tall brick building sitting in the middle of several acres of plush green grass surrounded by a beautiful array of colorful flowers. To the right of the building was a large lake with park benches and rocking chairs around it. Just looking at the property was relaxing; it almost reminded me of how my day had begun.
I drove up to the security gate. Seth had not given me any instructions about how to get past security, and I was sure he had not had time to call and let them know I would be coming. I sighed in frustration as I let the window down.
“How may I help you, ma'am?”
The security guard was a fragile-looking white man with huge glasses. They were so big, he could probably see Russia from where he was sitting. I laughed at my own silliness. But if Sarah Palin could see Russia from Alaska, then I was certain with these bifocals, he could see it from Augusta, Georgia.
“Yes, sir. I am here to pick up Ms. Louella Todd,” I said, hoping he would not ask me any more questions, because I sure did not have any more answers.
He looked all around before he leaned closer to his window and began to whisper. “How is Dr. Carson? Everybody around here has been talking about what happened over yonder at his doctor's office. He all right, ain't he?”
“He's fine,” I whispered back.
“He ain't hardly fine. I been working at this here old folks' home for near 'bout fifty years, and anytime he send somebody round here to pick up his grandmother, it mean one thing. He worried 'bout something. He want his grandmama there when he get home because she is the only person in this here world that can calm him down.” He looked around again. “And maybe you can, too. Ever since that crazy fiancée of his put him through all of that drama, as you young people call it, he ain't been right. So unless you some kin to him, he must be finding the strength to move on with his life.”
“Well, I will let him know that you asked about him.”
“Yeah, you do that.” He paused, leaving me to wonder if he was going to let me through or not. Then he said, “So is you kin to him or not?”
I laughed, because old people were just old people, whether they were black, white, blue, or yellow. They were all messy and nosy—but in a good, old-person type of way.
“No, I am not related to Dr. Carson. He is just a good friend of mine.”
“I have met some of his
good
friends. Like I said, I been working at this here old folks' home near 'bout fifty years, and ain't none of his friends ever been trusted to come and get his beloved grandmother. And I for sure ain't seen any of his friends driving his car. So you more than a good friend. You somebody special, little lady.”
I could not help but smile. He was wrong, because we really were nothing more than friends, but I was sure it would not take much to become more than that. But right now my focus was on getting Ms. Todd.
“Well, thank you kindly.”
“I ain't gonna hold you. I know you trying to get in there and rescue Ella from these nosy folks that live here.” He looked around again before he leaned over to whisper. “I gotta warn you. She can be a little tough cookie. Ms. Ella don't play 'bout her grandson. She loves that man like her own child and will hurt anybody who tries to hurt him. If you don't believe me, just ask that last little heifer he called a fiancée. We ain't heard a word from her, so if you see her, you ask her 'bout Louella Todd. I don't know it to be true, but the word round here is Ella broke her broomstick on her back and then ran over her with her Hoveround. Now, I didn't see it, but that's just what I heard from these nosy folks round these parts.”
I laughed hysterically.
Hoveround? Broomstick? Too funny.
“I will be sure to keep that in mind, sir.”
“Well, it's been nice chatting with you, li'l lady. I hope to see you round here again. You the prettiest li'l butter pecan thang I done seen in a long time. A healing sight for these sore eyes,” he said, smiling for the first time and revealing one solid gold tooth.
A white man with gold in his mouth? Say it wasn't so!
He activated the gate, and it rose to let me through. I waved at him as I drove away. I could only imagine what all he knew and had seen in the time he had been working here. I would love to have a conversation with him on a day I had nothing to do. I had a feeling I would spend the entire time laughing and splitting my side. He was a hoot.
I drove up to the building, and to my surprise there was a valet attendant. I had never seen a valet station at a senior housing facility, but then again, I had never been to one. I stepped out of the car.
“Hello. How long will you be visiting with us today?” the attendant said.
“I am just here to pick up someone. I don't think that will take a long time.”
“Who are you here to pick up?”
“Ms. Louella Todd.”
“Oh, Ms. Willie.”
“Excuse me? No, I said Louella.”
“Louella is her daughter's name.”
Why did Seth tell me Louella? Why did the security guard go along with it?
“Louella is the code name for us here when Dr. Carson sends someone to get her and he hasn't called ahead to let us know. We know to let her go if someone asks for Louella. That's why Ben down there at the gate let you in. Otherwise, he would have talked you to death and sent you on your way,” he said, laughing.
That makes sense.
I was wondering why I was let in so easily. Anybody could have been driving a car like his.
“Plus, it also helps that you are driving Dr. Carson's car.”
“How do you know this is his car?”
“You are such a lady,” he said, snickering. “Look at the rims on the tires. His initials are on them. This model car is only custom made. Plus”—he walked around to the back of the car—“it says ‘SC' on his tag,” he said, pointing to the license plate.
I walked around the car to check it out, and sure enough his initials were not only on the rims but also on the tag. “I never paid attention to that,” I said.
He laughed again. “Well, I'll see you in about an hour.”
“Oh, no, I am just here to pick her up. We will be right back down. You can keep the car running if you would like.”
This man really loved to laugh, because he did it again.
“You evidently have not met Ms. Willie. She is a feisty old lady. And she is going to take at least thirty minutes to pack her things. She has to have everything perfect and just right. You will see. Good luck,” he said as he walked away.
I walked into the foyer, and it mirrored a five-star hotel. The decor, the furnishings . . . were exquisite. I was very impressed. I surmised that Seth had to be spending quite a bit of money for his grandmother to live here. None of the residents were walking around alone. They each had a staff member, dressed in a white nursing uniform, escorting them around. I spotted the check-in desk and went over to sign in.
“Hi, I'm Julie. How can I help you today?” the receptionist asked.
“Hello, Julie. I am here to pick up Ms. Louella Todd. Actually, Willie Todd, but I was told to say Louella.”
“Okay.” She placed a clipboard in front of me. “Sign in for me, and I will call up and let her and her nurse know you are on your way up,” she said and then walked away to pick up the phone.
I did as she asked and then placed the clipboard back down on the desk.
She returned. “I will just need a copy of your driver's license and you can go right up.”
I took my driver's license out of my wallet and passed it to her. She disappeared into a room to the make the copy. I saw the LED light flashing on my BlackBerry. I pulled it out of my purse immediately, thinking I had missed a call from Seth. I looked at it, and it was just Byran. I opened the text message screen and saw that two of my friends were in Atlanta and wanted to hook up with me this weekend. Three other texts were from Byran.
 
Message #1, 11:59
P.M.
:
Once again I tried calling you and no answer. Hit me back.
Message #2, 12:37
P.M.
:
How long must you ignore me? Please call me. I have something to tell you.
Message #3, 1:05
P.M.
Allyson, this is serious. I need you to call me immediately. Fine if you don't want to know what's going on as my friend, but as my wife and per our contract, you need to contact me ASAP.
“Here you are, Ms. Ward,” Julie said, passing my driver's license back to me.
“Thank you.”
“Ms. Todd is waiting for you. Take those elevators directly behind you to the fourth floor. She is in apartment home four-twenty-four.”
“Thanks. Have a great day,” I said, turning to walk away.
“You too,” she replied.
As I got on the elevator, my nerves began to overtake me. I'd had an image of a quiet, sickly lady in my head when I set out on my way here, but both Ben and the valet guy had convinced me otherwise. I had no idea what to expect.
The short elevator ride ended way before I wanted it to. I went in the direction of her apartment and stopped in front of her door. I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, exhaled, and tried to remove any thoughts of Byran, which were slowly trying to plague my mind. The door opened just as soon as I lifted my hand to knock.
“Ms. Ward, I am Suzanne, Ms. Todd's nurse. How are you today?”
She was a full-figured woman, large enough to rival any linebacker, with red hair and, most shockingly, a gold tooth. What was it about these white folks in Augusta with gold teeth? Were they all stuck in the nineties?
“I am fine. How are you?” I asked, extending my hand.
“We give hugs around here. This is the country, and I can tell you are a little prissy,” she said as she pulled me to her and squeezed me so tight, I thought my uterus would pop out of my nose. “So good to have you come here all the way from Atlanta to pick up Ms. Todd for Dr. Carson.”
How did she know I was from Atlanta?
“Do I know you? Or a better question is, do you know me? How do you know I am from Atlanta?”
“For one, Julie called up and gave me your information. But also I recognized your name. I used to live in Atlanta, and I visited Cornerstone a few times.”
Oh, Lord. Here we go.
The last thing I needed was someone recognizing me. Yet I put on my first lady demeanor and flashed my generic first lady smile.
“It is such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for visiting Cornerstone. And anytime you are ever in the Atlanta area, I hope you will come back by and visit with us again.”
BOOK: Preacher's Wifey
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